


Someone, Somewhere (In Summertime)

by Elledritch



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Adulthood, Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Flower Shop, Anxiety, Awkward Flirting, Bullying, Coming Out, Dating, Drinking, Florists, Healthy Relationships, Homophobia, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Slice of Life, Smoking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-15
Updated: 2019-05-09
Packaged: 2019-06-27 21:35:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 58,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15693843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elledritch/pseuds/Elledritch
Summary: Working in a flower shop isn’t nearly as relaxing and glamorous as it’s made out to be. People often assume that it’s quiet and clean and that days are spent putting together delicate bouquets for yearning customers. Sometimes, that can be true, but more often than not it involves heavy lifting, cleaning out stagnant buckets, and arguing over whether or not the customer over-watered their cactus (they did). Rather than going home at the end of the day smelling of stargazer lilies and feeling relaxed, you’re left with calloused fingers and a crippling state of exhaustion.At least… that was Roxas’s impression of the job, but he was admittedly quite cynical at the best of times.





	1. Goodbye Stranger

Working in a flower shop isn’t nearly as relaxing and glamorous as it’s made out to be. People often assume that it’s quiet and clean and that days are spent putting together delicate bouquets for yearning customers. Sometimes, that can be true, but more often than not it involves heavy lifting, cleaning out stagnant buckets, and arguing over whether or not the customer over-watered their cactus (they did). Rather than going home at the end of the day smelling of stargazer lilies and feeling relaxed, you’re left with calloused fingers and a crippling state of exhaustion.

At least… that was Roxas’s impression of the job, but he was admittedly quite cynical at the best of times.

His mother, Aerith, had acquired the shop five years ago when the family had moved from their former home in Radiant Garden to their more modest one in Twilight Town. Aerith, eager to get her life back on track after her divorce, bought the shop from it’s previous owner, Lauriam (a seedy rose-haired man that Roxas knew very little of). The transition was as smooth as it could have been and Aerith took the reigns with confidence and ease. Despite the divorce and inevitable heartache, Roxas admired that his mother always wore a smile. She was calm, collected, and had the kindest soul of anyone he had ever met. She very quickly won the hearts of the Twilight Town residents and her shop was held in high esteem ever since.

So naturally, being the only one of her sons still living at home, Roxas agreed to work for his mother at the shop during the summers between college semesters. His twin brother, Ventus, had left home three years ago to pursue his Masters in Psychology (Sleep Psychology, of all things), and his oldest brother, Prompto, was travelling the world as an acclaimed nature photographer.

This left Roxas, the youngest by thirteen minutes, and easily the most disappointing of the three—in his humble opinion—to remain at home and help his mother at the shop. He’d like to think it was out of the goodness of his heart, but really… Roxas just had no better plans in mind. He had applied for college to appease his mom and had registered for the General Arts program in an attempt to “uncover his hidden interests,” but was having no such luck.

It wasn’t that he didn’t have interests or talents; Roxas just didn’t think anything he enjoyed or was good at doing could be made into a career. He took pleasure in casual photography and had an impressive collection of hand-me-down cameras from Prompto, but he was nowhere near as interested or adequate enough to pursue a _career_ in the field like his brother. Aside from that… video games? Skateboarding? Reading existential literature? The usual hobbies that a small town twenty-five year old would enjoy.

So, it was at no one’s fault but his own that he was working alone on a Friday afternoon in the middle of May. Aerith had left earlier in the day to work on-site at a wedding, and despite having left Roxas alone many, _many_ times before, she was still adamant about making sure he was comfortable and prepared to run the shop by himself.

“Do you need anything? Have you eaten enough?” She had insisted while packing her toolbox full of supplies.

“I’m fine,” Roxas shrugged, passing her a pair of shears that she had gestured towards. He had made sure to visit the coffee shop on his break before Aerith had left for the day, which he had quickly become a regular customer of after some casual flirting with the barista. It was nothing serious, and Roxas didn’t even know the barista’s name, but it was always something to look forward to. Roxas assured her that he would be fine and that she only needed to worry about the wedding. He helped her pack up the delivery van with the floral arrangements and supplies, and with a heavy sigh of relief, waved goodbye.

Wedding season hadn’t _quite_ kicked off yet, so the events that they did have were sporadic and usually smaller, which meant Roxas had very little to occupy himself with at the shop, and that’s exactly how he preferred it. Customers meandered in and out of the store, more often browsing than actually looking to make a purchase, so Roxas quietly allowed them to. He was very fortunate in that his mother never pressured him to be an aggressive salesman. She said to just “treat the customers like friends,” and in Roxas’s opinion, the friendliest thing he could do is just leave them the hell alone as they browsed.

It was two hours before closing when a nervous man came into the store, looking utterly clueless. These _were_ the times that Roxas felt the need to interject, when someone had that aimless look on their face but were far too awkward to ask for assistance.

“Looking for anything in particular?” Roxas asked the young dark haired man, who was sweating from the forehead profusely.

“I—uh, yes. It’s my first year anniversary and… I have no idea what to get. I’m already a bit late cause I was held back at work, and I’m meeting her at a restaurant. Do you have red roses? Red roses are good, right? Romantic?” He trailed off, tugging at the collar of his button down shirt.

“Don’t do roses because you think they’re the only option. I’m here to help, so, what’s she like?” Roxas grabbed a handful of greenery from the bucket next to him, preparing himself to make the bouquet as quickly as possible and send this sucker off on his way. After working several summers in a flower shop, you quickly grow tired of cliche flowers, especially when they’re most often purchased by apathetic boyfriends that don’t know any better. In his opinion, nothing said, “I care,” or “I love you,” or “please date me, I’m so desperate and sick of being alone,” more than a custom bouquet. Even if you don’t know your partner’s favourite flowers or colours or whatever, it just shows that you… thought about it a little bit more.

Everybody has a favourite flower, Roxas had quickly come to realize. Even those that deny it, or claim that they don’t care. There was such a vast variety that he believed it was near impossible for a person to not like a single one of them. Roxas was partial to the tropicals, which—until working in a flower shop—he didn’t even realize such unusual plants could even exist. He loved the grand and expensive King Protea, the tall and rubbery Ginger flowers, the surprising colour variety of Anthuriums, and everything and anything that looked bright or alien or unusual.

Roxas turned his attention back to his customer, who was now looking down at his hands (which were likely very sweaty, judging by the rest of him). The man thought for a moment before responding, “she’s… so generous. She always listens to me and asks me about my life, even if my stories are always boring. She has such a bright and warm personality, and is so quick to make friends with anyone she meets.”

Roxas smiled at the man’s honesty. See, it wasn’t hard to get past settling for just stupid roses. “Okay, how about…” Roxas led the man through the shop, picking up various colourful stems, “these?” He held up an assortment of deep purple and red flowers, and then grabbed three stems of red roses, “we can add a few roses, too, but don’t get carried away with them in the future.”

The man smiled and nodded, and Roxas quickly began to work on the bouquet for him. His job was often tiring, and certainly not what he expected to be doing in his mid-twenties, but there were _some_ parts that he enjoyed. And besides, any opportunity he could get to sway someone from settling for a godforsaken bouquet of red roses was a win in his books.

He tied the bouquet together and began to clip the stems to the same length when he felt a sharp pain in his middle finger tip. “ _Shit—_ uh, sorry.” Roxas hissed, hiding his bloody finger in his palm. Admittedly distracted, he had cut the tip of his finger while he was lost in thought and could feel the steady pulse of blood trickling from the wound.

The man looked at him, concerned, “Everything okay?”

“Uh, yeah, a rose just pricked me. And here you go, all done.” Roxas pushed the bouquet into the man’s arms, distracting him from seeing Roxas’s injured finger. He prayed he didn’t leave any blood on the bouquet. Roxas quickly rang the man’s purchase through, bloodied hand hidden at his side, and sent him off with a quick goodbye and hurried care instructions.

Finally alone again, he took the quiet moment to examine his finger. It wasn’t a deep cut, and he likely wouldn’t need stitches, but he had cut it at a bad angle and it just wouldn’t stop _bleeding_. Roxas went to the bathroom to wash his finger, hissing in pain when he ran his hand under the cool water. Okay, so maybe it was a little worse than he had thought. He balled up a bunch of paper towel and held it tightly to his finger. There were two hours left until he could close the shop, and Aerith wouldn’t be done with the wedding until after that.

He heard the door chime, and Roxas groaned loudly. He returned to the storefront, ball of paper towel clenched in his hand, and waited silently as a couple of high school girls browsed. He assumed they could feel his impatient glare at them, because the girls took turns looking back at him and giggling to each other. They picked up a small cactus and brought it to Roxas.

“Is this _real?”_ The blonde girl asked.

Roxas was so close to rolling his eyes at them, but stopped himself. “Yes. It is. All of our plants are real.” He stole a glance at the paper towel in his hand, noticing that it was almost entirely soaked through with blood.

“Cool! It’s so cute! So like, do I need to water it?” She asked.

“Er, yeah. But not often. About once a month.” The annoyance was becoming unbearable. Even on a regular day, Roxas had very little tolerance for dumb questions, but the pain in his hand was making this exponentially worse.

“Just once a month? Like, half a cup?” Her friend asked this time, grinning. Roxas couldn’t help but think that they were _trying_ to get on his nerves.

“What? No.” He sighed, “look, just give it a tablespoon or so once a month. It’ll be fine. Do you want it or not?”

The blonde haired girl did her best to stifle a giggle, and she shook her head. “No thanks!” They abandoned the cactus on Roxas’s counter and turned to leave, and this time their banter was loud enough for Roxas to make out the words “jerk” and “what an asshole,” but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

It had been twenty minutes now and the bleeding hadn’t shown any signs of slowing. He had used up nearly half a roll of paper towel and the pain was only increasing. Roxas could feel his finger throbbing, and it was beginning to make him anxious. He was torn between closing the shop early and just waiting it out, when the door chimed once more.

This time, a man came inside. He was tall, thin and had a mess of flaming red hair. He wore a very “business casual” all-black outfit that suggested he was possibly a waiter or an office worker of some kind. The man turned his attention to Roxas, and Roxas couldn’t help but be distracted for a brief moment by the intensity of this man’s green eyes. The stranger walked directly to Roxas’s counter with a wide grin on his face before leaning casually on the countertop. If he wasn’t currently in such pain and discomfort, Roxas might’ve acknowledged how unconventionally attractive this bright haired stranger was.

“Do you have any of those plants that eat things?” The man asked.

“Uh…” Roxas squinted in confusion and the grip on his blood soaked paper towel tightened, “what?”

“Like the ones that eat bugs, and stuff,” the stranger made snapping motions with his hands in an attempt to mimic a flytrap.

“Oh, like carnivorous plants?” Roxas winced as his finger throbbed painfully. He felt himself beginning to sweat out of both nervousness and discomfort. He had always been bad at dealing with injuries. “No, sorry.”

Unfortunately for Roxas, the man was far more intuitive than he had hoped and took notice of Roxas’s grimace. “Are you… okay?” He asked.

Roxas hesitated for a moment, reluctant to show his wound to a stranger. A _customer._ He had cut his fingers many times before at work, as it was only natural when working with shears and thorny flowers, and had always done his best to hide it from customers as to not attract negative attention, but today’s was particularly bad. Slowly, he lifted his hand, still holding the ball of paper towel tightly, and showed the man. “I just, uh… cut my finger, and it hurts. But it’s fine. I haven’t bled on anything, don’t worry.”

The man, much to Roxas’s surprise, remained calm. “Do you have a first aid kit?”

“Uh…” Roxas ducked behind the counter and sifted through the cupboards before pulling out a small kit. Only now, he realized that he probably should’ve looked for this right away.

“Cool, sit down.” The man walked behind the counter to join Roxas, and pointed at the stool by the work computer.

“What? It’s fine, really. I’m almost done work.” This was way beyond his comfort zone, and combined with the increasingly bloodied hand, Roxas had began to inwardly panic.

_“_ You’re seriously going to try and close down the shop, _by yourself_ , with one hand like this?” The man chuckled and pointed once more at the stool.

Roxas, unable to argue with that, sat down without saying a word. He watched as the man went to the sink to wash his hands before returning to kneel in front of Roxas.

“Don’t worry, I deal with this stuff all the time. My friends are a bunch of idiots and I’m usually the one helping with their injuries.” The man laughed, taking Roxas’s injured hand in his own and slowly removing the ball of paper towel. Roxas’s palm was almost entirely sticky with blood at this point, “yikes. How long has it been bleeding?”

“Er… twenty minutes?” Roxas blushed, keeping his eyes on his bloodied palm. He suddenly felt incredibly vulnerable.

The stranger hummed and began to disinfect the area around the wound with a sanitary wipe, cleaning away all of the dried blood before focusing on the cut. “So, what’s your name?”

“… Roxas.”

“Roxas,” the man repeated. The wipe felt cool on Roxas’s palm and it was doing wonders to calm his anxiety. “Is this your shop, Roxas?”

“No… it’s my mother’s. I just help her here over the summer between school.” Roxas’s breathing had returned to normal and even the pulsing in his fingertip felt like it was beginning to subside. He realized the man was trying to calm him down with light conversation, and he very much appreciated the effort.

“College? What are you studying?”

Roxas watched as the stranger tended to his cut and carefully wrapped it in gauze. “I’m just… in a General Arts program. It’s stupid. My mom wanted me to go back to school and I couldn’t decide what I wanted to do.”

The man looked up abruptly—forcing Roxas to do the same—and their eyes met. “It’s not stupid. You’re still young, and you have plenty of time.”

“Uh…” was Roxas’s intelligent response.

“You’re what, twenty-two? You have tons of time,” the man assured, and returned his gaze as he finished properly bandaging Roxas’s hand.

“I’m twenty-five,” Roxas corrected. He had acknowledged that he and his twin brother still looked younger for their age, and their height didn’t do much to help clear the misconceptions.

“Regardless, my point still stands. You’ll figure it out.”

“Thanks, I guess.” He didn’t know who this man was, or why he was taking the time to console Roxas on his life choices (or lack of), and he couldn’t help feeling a bit agitated by it. What if he _didn’t_ figure it out? What if he was meant to work at this shop forever while his brothers achieved their dreams. He felt a swelling in his chest.

The man smiled at Roxas, interrupting his negative thoughts, and stood, “alright, let’s get you to a clinic.”

“What?” Roxas exclaimed, “but you bandaged it. It’s fine now, right?”

“Naw, at this rate you’re going to bleed through that too. Now come on, I’ll give you a ride.” He dangled his keychain in front of Roxas with a warm smile.

“But… I need to close first,” Roxas glanced around the store. There were a few display tables that still needed to be brought in, and he’d have to count the register…

“Don’t worry. We can bring the things from outside in, but your mom will be cool with you leaving the rest due to an _injury_ ,” the man said. He had a point, too. “Unless of course, your mom is completely heartless… wait, is she?”

Roxas couldn’t help but grin at that, “okay. Just… don’t kidnap me, or whatever.”

“Pfft,” the man scoffed playfully, “not before I take you to the clinic. I don’t want you bleeding all over my car.” He paused before assuring, “that was a joke, by the way.”

Roxas laughed and did his best to help with bringing the display tables inside, but his new friend did almost all of the work for him. Before leaving, Roxas sent a quick text to his mother to explain the situation. He was only closing about an hour early, which wouldn’t be a problem, but he didn’t want her to worry when he returned home late, possibly with stitches in his hand.

He was led to a small black car, an older model which he was unfamiliar with (Roxas was never really a car person though), and sat in the front seat. Looking around, he noticed that the inside of the vehicle was… quite messy. It wasn’t _uncomfortably_ messy, but he could tell that the owner, presumably this red-haired man, wasn’t too concerned with the appearance. Loose papers and sheet music were discarded across the backseat, candy wrappers stuffed into the cup holders, and the air around him smelled faintly of stale old cigarettes.

“Sorry about the mess,” the man said while starting the car. “I share the car with my roommate and he’s a bit of… a slob.”

“It’s no problem,” Roxas said, kicking an empty coffee cup aside. “Um, thank you for doing this, by the way….”

“Axel,” fervent green eyes met with Roxas’s once again before turning back to the road. “My name’s Axel.”

Roxas looked down at his bandaged hand. As Axel had predicted, the blood had already begun to seep through the gauze. At least it was doing a much better job than his ball of paper towel had. “Well, thank you Axel.”

“Eh, I wasn’t going to just let you bleed to death,” Axel exaggerated. They sat together in silence as Axel found the quickest route to the clinic. Fortunately, it was less than a ten minute drive away, which Roxas took solace in as he was feeling increasingly more and more awkward about the whole situation.

Axel pulled up to the clinic and stopped in front of it, “well Roxas, here you are. Promise me you’ll _actually_ go in, okay?”

Roxas smiled shyly, because he actually had considered ditching as soon as Axel had dropped him off. He’d never been overly fond of doctor’s offices. “I know, _mom,”_ he teased. Roxas opened the car door and stepped out, waving goodbye to Axel with his bandaged hand, “thanks again for doing this. I owe you one.”

“Bye, Roxas,” Axel winked at him charmingly.

Roxas stood alone in the quiet parking lot for a moment before entering the clinic. He wasn’t sure if it was just out of appreciation or something more, but he felt hopeful that he would see Axel again soon.

He’d have to ask Aerith to order some carnivorous plants for the store.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A big thank you to AutumnPlants for making the beautiful graphic for this fic and being an all around wonderful person. It was the first fan work I've ever received for a fic before, and I was beyond excited about it.
> 
> Enjoy!


	2. A Whiter Shade of Pale

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A reminiscence of Roxas's harrowing love life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for this chapter: homophobia (slurs and otherwise), internalized homophobia, underage drinking, bullying (verbal and physical), etc.
> 
> Roxas has had a rough past.

No stitches were required, which left Roxas feeling nothing short of embarrassed as he exited the clinic. His wound had been inspected and cleaned, yet again, before a fresh bandage was applied. The doctor was far less consoling than Axel had been; Roxas was in and out in a matter of minutes, dismissed in a tone that suggested he was only wasting time by being there.

Once outside, he unlocked his phone to call Aerith, and only then realized the mass of panicked texts that his mother had sent. “Whoops,” he sighed to himself, tapping the phone icon next to his mother’s name.

After one ring, she answered, “Roxas? Are you okay?”

“Hey, yeah.” He sat down on the curb, “could you… pick me up? I’m at the clinic. I can find a way home if I need to.”

He heard a sigh of relief on the other end, “of course I can. Just wait there for me.” She hesitated, “are you sure you’re alright?”

Roxas couldn’t deny that he was feeling out of sorts, but it had been an odd day. The last thing he wanted was for Aerith to stress over his mental health when she already had so much work ahead of her, “I’m fine. I’ll tell you all about it when I see you.”

“Sit tight and I’ll be there soon.”

“‘Kay, see you soon.”

Aerith had arrived in a matter of minutes, wet hair tied loosely in a bun atop her head. She looked as though she had sprung out of the shower the moment Roxas had called, and he wouldn’t be surprised if that were actually the case. Her compassion led her to act impulsively, Roxas thought, but it was also what made her so wonderful.

“Thanks, mom,” he said fondly, relaxing into the passenger’s seat.

Aerith smiled softly and took Roxas’s hand in her own, inspecting the bandage. “You know you can call me as soon as something like this happens, right?”

“I know. But you were setting up a wedding and I would’ve just stalled things. Besides…” he paused, “I had a friend come and help me out.”

“Naminé?”

Roxas rolled his eyes, “she’s not my _only_ friend, you know.” Aerith hummed knowingly in response; Roxas couldn’t fool her. “He works at a coffee shop near our store,” he lied, but it was better than telling his mom outright that he had left work in a stranger’s car. “He happened to come in after I cut my finger and offered to give me a ride.”

Aerith said nothing, but the look that she gave Roxas was skeptical. Their conversation ended there, and it was clear that Aerith was disappointed in Roxas for withholding. They were close, there was no doubt about it, but Roxas never confided in her the way that she’d hoped. Whereas Ventus wore his heart on his sleeve, Roxas found solace in privacy. It worried Aerith, but she knew better than to pry.

 

 

The next morning, Aerith insisted that Roxas stay home and rest his hand. She didn’t want to risk an infection, and their workplace wasn’t exactly the most sanitary. Roxas didn’t bother with arguing—it wasn’t often that he had Saturdays off—and allowed Aerith to kiss his cheek goodbye before he settled on the living room couch with a cup of coffee. His days off were normally Sunday and Monday, so he was quite thrilled to have his first long weekend in… who even knows how long?

Sipping his coffee, he idly played a mobile game; it was a spin-off of his favourite game franchise, and one of those “free-to-play” but no doubt “pay-to-win” Gacha games. Fortunately, he’d resisted the temptation to actually sink money into the game—bless his willpower—but it was awfully tempting at times.

It wasn’t an hour before Roxas had run out of coffee, finished the daily quests in his game, and become overwhelmed with boredom. With an overly dramatic groan (who was there to judge him?) he lifted himself off the couch and brought his mug to the kitchen. He washed his mug and the French press he had used to make coffee, being extra careful as to not get his gauze wet. He’d already grown tired of wearing the bandage. It hadn’t needed stitches so it couldn’t possibly be _that_ bad. Resisting the temptation to peel it off, he willed himself to be productive and instead put the clean dishes away from the day before.

After a half hour of mindlessly pacing and tidying the kitchen, Roxas thought to text Naminé. If he was going to mope around the house all day, it would be better to do it in good company. He sent, “ _are you home? Wanna hang out?”_ And then pocketed his phone. Roxas was fortunate that Naminé was similarly introverted. Their hang-outs were usually spent at either of their homes (which never made much of a difference, considering they were neighbours), and usually involved working on some kind of artistic project until Roxas got frustrated and they switched to playing video games or watching animated movies. Roxas could never tell if they were perfectly in sync or if Naminé was just the most accommodating person alive, because she always agreed when Roxas wanted to move on from an activity. He wouldn’t doubt that she’d spend an entire day painting though, if it weren’t for his nagging short attention span.

In the past, Aerith had asked Roxas on numerous occasions if he and Naminé were dating. He denied it without kicking up a fuss; usually, the more defensive a response, the less likely someone is to believe you, so Roxas always played it cool. They were simply best friends, he’d insist, and it was entirely the truth. Naminé knew Roxas better than anyone, except perhaps Ventus, and they were kindred spirits.

Roxas met Naminé the day the family had moved to Twilight Town. She was standing in her bedroom window in a clean white dress, watching Roxas and his family unload the moving van. Ventus had pointed her figure out in the window, asking Roxas if he thought she was a ghost. He’d laughed dismissively at his twin before staring up at the her. She was pale and diminutive, and for a moment Roxas thought that maybe she _was_ a ghost, until she disappeared behind the curtains to escape the twins’ staring.

Once they had fully unloaded the moving van and had begun to unpack, there was a quiet knock at the door. Naminé was there, holding a homemade bouquet of flowers picked from her family’s garden, and offered them to Aerith as a welcoming gift. She was horrified when she later found out that Aerith was a florist, but Aerith insisted that they were beautiful and had asked Naminé in for some tea. It was then, sitting around the kitchen table amongst a mess of moving boxes, that Roxas met Naminé properly for the first time. She was polite and well spoken and had acrylic paint stains scattered on her arms; Roxas had found himself wondering how she managed to keep her white dress so clean.

After that, they were nearly inseparable. Roxas often considered the two of them to be soul mates, but in a purely platonic manner. Though she was beautiful and kind, Roxas was never attracted to her, and he was glad that Naminé felt the same way. In every possible way, they probably would’ve made a great couple, save for the glaring fact that Roxas was a closeted homosexual. Naminé was one of the few people that knew this fact about Roxas, and surely the _only_ one that had an up-to-date telling of his queer endeavours (or lately, lack of). Ventus knew, of course; there was very little that Roxas could hide from Ven, especially considering their “twin telepathy”. Prompto had moved away several years ago for work, and Roxas had never exactly _told_ him about his sexuality, but he wouldn’t be surprised if his oldest brother had suspected it. Roxas had the feeling that Prompto bordered on bisexual, himself. He hadn’t had a romantic partner in years and was currently too busy gallivanting around the world with his “business partner”, Noctis. Business or not, the two looked very comfortable together in their social media updates.

Aerith didn’t know. At least, to Roxas’s understanding, she didn’t. Although she was compassionate and liberal-minded, he just couldn’t bring himself to confess to her. Knowledge of his sexuality had only gotten him into trouble in the past, and so coming out had since left a bad taste in his mouth. Deep down, he knew that he _could_ tell her and it would be _fine_ , but at any given opportunity, Roxas would shut down or change the subject. He didn’t know why it was so hard. Well, he _did_ know, considering his past, but this was Aerith and not some middle school bully. With Aerith’s advanced intuition, there was no way she didn’t already have suspicions about it. She was even unperturbed the day she discovered Roxas and Ven’s matching tattoos they’d gotten before Ven had left for university; they were ornate keys that Naminé had designed for them, both tattooed on the twins’ forearms.

Roxas had known he was gay before he even… knew what the word was. He’d been an unusual child growing up, to say the least, and always the odd one when compared to his twin. Ven, bless his soul, grew overly protective of Roxas because of this. If someone commented on Roxas’s behaviour, Ven would act similarly to throw them off. Because of their unique mannerisms (and Roxas’s affinity for checkered patterns), the twins were surprisingly easy to tell apart at most times. Ven kept Roxas feeling positive and protected throughout their years in elementary School, until fifth grade when they were each assigned to different homerooms.

It was then that Roxas met Tidus. Tidus was exuberant and athletic and their playdates were often spent playing video games or battling with toy swords. Roxas’s parents were delighted that he had made a friend of his own, as he usually leeched onto Ven and his friends, and allowed for Tidus to come over as often as he wanted. They had sleepovers nearly every weekend, always at Roxas’s house, and many years later Roxas would learn from Aerith that it was because Tidus’s father was notorious for being a rather abusive alcoholic. Allowing Tidus to stay over as often as he wanted was her passive way of protecting him from his father.

But then puberty hit, and Roxas couldn’t ignore the massive change in his perception. Their sleepovers were still just as frequent, and they always slept in Roxas’s bed, but as time passed Roxas became hyperaware of the warm body next to him. He spent countless hours awake at night, staring at the ceiling and doing his best to mitigate the unfamiliar warm sensation that was stirring in his gut.

Things changed on the night of Roxas and Ven’s thirteenth birthday. After the partygoers had left for the night, Roxas and Tidus had retired to Roxas’s bedroom to play the new games that he had been gifted. They went far into the night, being “shushed” several times by his father throughout, before finally going to bed. Still energized from the party and the excessive screen-time, they lay awake in bed, facing each other, as they joked and chatted quietly in the dark room. He didn’t know if it was a result of being overtired or the newfound confidence of being a “teen”, but the warm feeling stirring within him had compelled him to lean in mid-conversation and kiss his best friend on the lips. Momentarily stunned, Tidus hesitated before he had returned the kiss. Neither knew what they were doing or why, and it had never gone further than gentle kisses and holding each other at night, but things had surely changed between them.

This behaviour carried on for several more weeks until one day, Tidus began to ignore Roxas entirely. They sat next to each other in homeroom, as usual, but Tidus didn’t even so much as glance at his friend. Heartbroken and insistent on an explanation for his abandonment, Roxas cornered Tidus outside after school one day. The rejection had gone on for too long.

“Why are you ignoring me?” Roxas had said, doing his best to appear unflinching before his friend.

“I don’t want to be friends anymore,” Tidus replied stoically, attempting to walk away.

With tears in his eyes, Roxas shoved Tidus hard against the wall, “that’s—that’s _bullshit.”_

_“_ It’s not _bullshit_! You’re… a faggot!” Tidus struggled with his words, clearly unsure of himself, but it didn’t make it sting any less. He steadied himself, “you’re disgusting. Get out of my face.”

Roxas stood his ground, a mess of stubbornness and fear. “Tidus… you’re my best friend. If you don’t want to kiss, we don’t have to. It’s—” Roxas was interrupted by Tidus’s fist connecting with his face. He stumbled backwards, unable to regain his footing, and fell down.

“ _Don’t even say it,_ ” Tidus hissed before turning abruptly and sprinting away.

When he returned home after school, Aerith was fortunately still at work. Ventus, though, noticed him immediately and demanded an explanation for Roxas’s black eye and tear stained cheeks. In the quiet of Roxas’s bedroom, he confessed to his brother everything that had happened. Ven held him tightly as Roxas cried. They devised a plan to convince Aerith that the black eye was from a play-fight gone wrong, which Ventus would describe to her animatedly. She bought the story and it wasn’t brought up again.

Fortunately, the school year was coming to an end, and then Roxas and Ven would be off to a new high school. For the remaining months, Ven kept a close eye on Roxas and they spent all of their time together. Though word had gotten out amongst the students that Roxas was “gay,” and whenever Ven wasn’t around, Roxas couldn’t ignore the mocking whispers from his classmates. In the month before school had ended, Tidus had found himself a girlfriend, Yuna. Whenever Roxas saw them together in the hall, Tidus would make a point of kissing Yuna in front of him. It was immature, but it hurt nonetheless.

High school was different, at least to begin with. Roxas was surprisingly quick to make friends with some of his classmates, a commonality among them being that they were all social outcasts. Hayner was the leader of this group of friends, and his rebellious attitude was likely the only thing that kept the group from being bullied on a regular basis. Roxas and Hayner had many things in common, and it was Hayner that brought out the reckless, insubordinate side of Roxas (much to Aerith’s displeasure). Pence was almost entirely the opposite; he was cheerful and awkward, but adamant about making sure the group was always having a good, safe, time. Finally, there was Olette. Olette, like Pence, had a pleasant demeanour. She was intelligent and motivating, and usually the instigator of group activities like going to the beach or getting ice cream together.

Roxas was happy, truly. For the first time in his life, he’d connected with a _group_ of friends _,_ albeit a small one. Eighth and ninth grade were full of many fond memories in the early stages of their friendship. The summer after eighth grade, they’d discovered a quiet place in an alleyway that they’d eventually convert into a cozy hang-out spot, complete with old abandoned couches, tacky band posters, and assorted memorabilia. Roxas had probably spent more time in that alleyway than he had at home over the course of that summer.

Memories of Tidus were of the distant past, which allowed Roxas to grow and move on. As he got older, he learned more of what it meant to be gay. Sometime in tenth grade, while they were all eating ice cream in the usual spot, he even found the courage to confide in his friends. They accepted him, and nothing changed. Roxas felt welcomed by them, and he felt loved.

In eleventh grade, they made enemies with a boy named Seifer. Seifer was entirely the cause of this rivalry, as Roxas’s gang usually kept to themselves. He wasn’t sure what caused it, but Seifer just… had it out for them. It must have been a superiority complex that motivated him, because he’d ridicule them at any given opportunity. Seifer had some friends, if that’s even what they were, but to Roxas they seemed more like evil lackeys.

Throughout the rest of high-school, they’d managed to keep the disputes between them and Seifer to a minimum. The summer after graduation, Olette and Pence announced that they’d both be leaving town to go to university. Roxas and Hayner still hadn’t applied to any, since they weren’t sure of what to pursue, so they ended up spending all of their spare time together once their friends had left town. They took up odd jobs to make money, which was often spent on alcohol (Hayner had some older acquaintances that would buy it for them) that they’d drink together in the usual spot while reminiscing or sharing new music.

It may have been because he had no one else, but Roxas eventually had fallen for Hayner, and he fell _hard._ After the two of them had each consumed a six pack of beers one evening, Roxas jokingly asked if he could kiss Hayner after complaining about his non-existent love life. Hayner, definitely _not_ joking, said yes. They made out drunkenly on the old, worn out couch in the usual spot. The distant hum of traffic and the wet noises of their lips were the only sounds to be heard between the two. After some time, they pulled apart, red faced and chuckling shyly. Hayner admitted to Roxas that it had felt a lot better than he had expected, to which Roxas laughed.

Their relationship only grew from there, and they even went so far as to call each other their “boyfriend” when no one else was around to hear it. Neither had come out to their parents yet, and in Hayner’s case, he wasn’t even sure if he was entirely gay. But to them, it didn’t matter, not yet. They were in no rush to make things public, and they insisted that they only needed each other. In hindsight, Roxas realized that their behaviour was a defence mechanism purely stemmed out of fear, but at the time, it was how they coped.

On a weekend when Hayner’s parents were out of town, he invited Roxas over for the night. He’d been to Hayner’s, of course, but not since their relationship had been established. They spent the night watching bad horror movies, taking many breaks throughout to kiss and explore one another. They were still secretive, and never showed their affection in public, but this felt like the first proper “date” that Roxas had ever had. Later that night, Roxas discovered the real reason Hayner had invited him over. More nervous than Roxas had ever seen him before (which was incredibly endearing), Hayner produced some newly purchased condoms and lubricant from his bedside drawer. It was something Roxas had been hoping for, but he never brought it up out of fear of scaring his friend away.

They had sex for the first time, and it was slow and awkward, but everything Roxas had hoped for. Hayner held Roxas tightly in the afterglow, and with his lips pressed against Roxas’s hair, he confessed his love. Roxas returned the sentiment before falling asleep on Hayner’s bare chest, feeling happier than he’d ever been.

Their relationship remained a secret, although Roxas was beginning to feel they couldn’t keep it that way for long. It was unrealistic to assume they could hide it forever. They nearly spent every waking hour together, just the two of them, and someone was bound to get suspicious. Roxas expressed his worry, but Hayner shrugged it off, insisting that all they needed was each other and he didn’t care if he got anyone’s approval.

Roxas’s parents were having a particularly bad fight one evening—it was something about finances, but Roxas couldn’t be bothered to eavesdrop—so he sent Hayner a text to meet in the usual spot, and he snuck out of the house.

It was a wonder how it happened, but over the years they’d managed to keep their usual spot a secret to anyone else. They’d disguised it with old blankets and towels, and to any passerby it probably just looked like a makeshift homeless shelter. It was raining, but Roxas used the sound of the rain to disguise his footsteps as he guided himself through the familiar alleyway and to their safe haven.

Hayner was already waiting inside, sitting on the couch with a smile on his face. Roxas, still damp from the rain, climbed into Hayner’s lap and kissed him firmly. They spoke softly and Roxas complained about his parents to Hayner (they had been fighting more and more often these days) while he remained straddling his boyfriend’s lap. Soft words turned into passionate kisses, and before he knew it, Roxas was being pinned down to the old couch by Hayner. All the worries of his frustrating home life disappeared when they were together, and Roxas gladly let it consume him.

Hayner was teasing his neck with soft kisses, one hand travelling down the front of Roxas’s pants, when they were interrupted.

“What. The. _Fuck.”_

Hayner pulled himself from Roxas and off of the couch in an instant. There, in the improvised doorway, was Seifer. He was alone tonight, but it didn’t make him appear any less menacing.

“Seifer, what the fuck are you doing here?” Hayner gritted his teeth and took a step forward. Roxas got off the couch and approached Hayner defensively.

“I could ask you fags the same damn thing. I saw your boy Rucksack here running into the alley and I wanted to see what he was up to,” Seifer’s smile was sickening. “And oh _man_ , I’m so glad that I did. This is fucking priceless.”

“Seifer, stop it,” Roxas said. Hayner was often quick to respond irrationally, so he had to attempt to diffuse the situation calmly before things got out of hand. Roxas reached out to grab Hayner’s wrist, but it was shaken from his grip forcefully.

“Aw, come on Hayner. Your boyfriend wants to hold your hand,” Seifer teased, walking further into their hideout.

“He’s not… my boyfriend…” Hayner said, not daring to look back at Roxas.

Seifer laughed, ignoring Roxas entirely. The abhorrence these two felt for one another was something Roxas could never get behind; something about Seifer just set Hayner off, and it was clear the feeling was mutual on Seifer’s behalf. “That’s not what I saw.” At this, Seifer turned his gaze to Roxas and slowly eyed him up and down with a look of disgust.

Roxas opened his mouth to speak, but Hayner was too quick for him. Hayner had swung his fist at Seifer wildly and clocked him in the face. Now frenzied, Seifer launched himself at Hayner and wrapped his hands around his neck. Seifer had Hayner pinned against the wall, screaming homophobic obscenities in his face all while tightening his grip.

It had all happened so quickly, and Roxas had never felt more terrified in his life. He picked up an old skateboard deck that had been discarded in the corner and swung. The wood split when it connected with the side of Seifer’s head, but it was more than enough to stop Seifer from choking his friend out. Seifer released Hayner, clutching at the side of his head where the blood was steadily flowing.

“I’m going to _KILL YOU,_ ” Seifer made an attempt to lunge at Roxas, but Hayner took the opportunity to grapple on him and wrap his arm around Seifer’s neck from behind.

Hayner leaned in and hissed into Seifer’s ear, “don’t fucking _touch_ him, you piece of shit.” He pushed Seifer onto the ground, towards the door, “now get the fuck out of here.”

Seifer stood, but moved backwards toward the door. One hand was holding his bleeding wound, and the other was pointing menacingly at Hayner. His eyes were blazing wildfires, “just fucking _wait_ ’til people hear about this.”

As soon as Seifer had left, Hayner allowed himself to collapse onto the couch. He was shaking, and more frightened than Roxas had ever seen him. Roxas knelt down on the couch beside him and raised a hand to lightly touch Hayner’s bruised neck.

“Stop,” Hayner batted his hand away.

“Hayner…” Roxas sighed, this time attempting to take his boyfriend’s hand.

“I said _stop,”_ Hayner slapped Roxas’s hand away forcefully this time. “We… Roxas, we can’t do this anymore.”

Roxas shook his head. “What are you talking about? Are you seriously going to let _Seifer_ ruin this for us?”

There was a long silence, and Roxas could only hear the rain drumming on the tin roof of their shelter before Hayner spoke again, “Rox, I can’t.”

“Hayner, it’ll be fine. He’s just one homophobic prick. We can take him.” Roxas inched closer and cautiously placed a hand on Hayner’s thigh. This time, Hayner allowed the touch, but did nothing to reciprocate.

“I… I just can’t keep hiding. This… _this,”_ Hayner gestured toward the curtained doorway that Seifer had left through, “was inevitable. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“Then… we’ll come out. We’ll tell our parents, together. We’re both adults, so what’s the worst that could happen?” He knew the worst that could happen, especially in Hayner’s case with his far more conservative parents, but Roxas was trying to be optimistic. It was Hayner who always said he didn’t care about approval, anyways.

“Roxas, I…” Hayner looked down at Roxas’s hand on his thigh, “I can’t do it, I’m not like that.”

“You aren’t like _what_? _Gay?_ I don’t care if you’re not _gay_ but this… we have something. You said you loved me, we call each other our fucking _boyfriends,_ for fuck’s sake. You can’t deny that, no matter what your internalized homophobia tries to tell you.” Roxas could feel the tears coming, but couldn’t be bothered to stop them.

“I’m sorry, Roxas.”

Roxas swept his hand off of Hayner’s leg; the touch suddenly felt toxic. “So… that’s it. We’re just… done then?”

“Yeah. We’re done.” Hayner stood, grabbed his bag and made for the doorway. Before leaving, he stopped, without looking back, “text me when you get home, so I know you’re safe.”

It was the last time that Roxas had seen or properly spoken to Hayner. He’d sent the text, as Hayner had asked, but received nothing in response. Roxas made no attempt to mend things, because he figured if Hayner wanted to come back, he would’ve. He was the one that left, after all.

Roxas kept quiet, even to Ventus at the beginning, but it was clearly odd to his family that he no longer left the house to spend time with his best friend. Roxas dismissed the inquiries by saying that Hayner had gotten a new job that was taking up his time, and they were organically drifting apart. He’d still leave the house every so often under the guise that he would be spending time with Hayner, and during these times he’d escape to the usual place, but his time there was always spent alone. He supposed he did it subconsciously, thinking that Hayner might show up one night, but he never did.

Several months later, Roxas’s parents finalized their divorce, and Aerith took her sons to live in Twilight Town. The boys were all old enough that custody wasn’t an issue; Prompto had since moved out and Ven was making plans for university. Roxas went with his mother because he needed an escape from Radiant Garden and he wasn’t prepared or financially stable yet to make it on his own. Besides, Aerith clearly appreciated the company. Though she hid it well, the divorce certainly did a number on her.

Now, five years later, Roxas was still single and hidden deeper in the closet than he ever had been. Naturally, his experiences left him with some unaddressed trust issues and relationship anxiety. He’d dated a few times since then, but nothing serious ever came of it. If anything, he just needed it for the physical attention that he’d been missing out on.

His reminiscing was cut short when he felt a vibration in his pocket, and Roxas fished out his phone to check. It was Naminé’s reply, and she’d be free to hang out after 2:00. It was still early in the day, so he figured he’d take the opportunity to do a grocery run and stop by the shop to say hi to Aerith—she’d appreciate that. Besides, it would give him a chance to visit the attractive barista at the nearby coffee house.

The weather was mild, so Roxas walked into town. He was quick at the grocery store, only picking up necessities and ingredients for dinner, and paid with the credit card he shared with Aerith for this very purpose. He didn’t mind running errands for his mother, and she was typically exhausted from work on her days off, so it was the least he could do.

Next was the coffee house, which he’d been looking forward to. Roxas fixed his hair before walking in and was immediately greeted by a charming dark haired man behind the counter.

“Hey, flower boy,” the barista chortled. “You not working today?”

Roxas smiled, momentarily musing over the things he wished he could do to this boy. He was really lacking in the intimacy department as of late. “Nope,” he replied, “just doing some errands. How’s it been today?”

“Eh, not super busy. It’s nice to see a friendly face though,” the barista smiled and leaned over the counter, propping his chin up in his hands. Roxas had to wonder if there was something between them, or if this guy was just really good at customer service.

“Likewise,” Roxas hummed. “Could I grab two mochas?”

The barista nodded and began to input the order into the till, “you know it, flower boy.”

Roxas paid and then moved aside to wait for his drinks to be made. He watched as the barista ducked down to retrieve milk from the mini fridge, and Roxas’s gaze lingered for a moment before he caught himself.

“Whipped cream?” The barista asked, turning around and emphasizing his question by holding up the whipped cream dispenser in the same manner that a gameshow host would display a prize.

Roxas snorted in laughter, “how could I turn that down?”

The coffees were finished off and the barista handed them to Roxas. Their fingers touched briefly during the exchange. Roxas met the boy’s eyes as he said his thanks, and he couldn’t help but notice a playful smirk on the other’s face. He’d really have to fess up and gain the courage to ask him out sometime.

Back at the flower shop, Aerith was occupying herself with some organizing. To Roxas’s relief, it didn’t seem like the shop was busy, so he couldn’t feel _too_ guilty about having the day off.

“Roxas!” Aerith exclaimed, taking the offered coffee from Roxas. “Thanks so much, sweetie. What would I do without you?”

Roxas shrugged and went to sit down at the stool by the work computer, remembering the last time he was sat down there and tended to by Axel. “You’d probably have a lot more caffeine withdrawals to cope with.”

She laughed and leaned against the counter, joining him for a short break. He liked seeing that she took time to herself whenever possible. Her job was incredibly physical and there were often days too busy to even take a break.

“Oh! I almost forgot,” Aerith took a sip of her mocha. “Some guy came in this morning and was asking for you. I told him you wouldn’t be in again until Tuesday.”

“Uh, really?” Roxas thought perhaps it had been the barista.

“He was very tall and had bright red hair, definitely dyed that way.”

Roxas chuckled nervously. He didn’t think Axel would actually come back to check on him, especially so soon. He hoped that Axel hadn’t say anything to compromise the lie he told his mother. “Oh yeah, uh, that’s Axel. He’s my friend that helped me out yesterday.”

Aerith hummed, “I figured. He’s kind of an unusual guy… at least, from a first impression. Why have you never mentioned him before?”

Roxas shrugged again, “it didn’t come up.”

Clearly not convinced, Aerith quietly enjoyed more of her coffee. Roxas took this opportunity to change the subject and inform her that Naminé would be over for dinner. He’d gotten groceries and would have dinner ready by the time Aerith got home. Aerith, won over by the kind gesture, kissed Roxas’s forehead before he left.

Roxas was halfway through the door before he remembered, “hey mom, would you be able to order in some carnivorous plants? Just some flytraps, or whatever is available.”

“Sure! Was it a customer request?” She asked, while jotting it down on a notepad for later.

“Something like that. Thanks, mom! I’ll see you soon.”

 

 

As punctual as ever, Naminé arrived almost right at 2:00. Roxas invited her in and offered her some tea, which she gratefully accepted. Although they were best friends, Roxas admired how Naminé was always polite; it said a lot about her character, and only accentuated her charm. They sat down together at the kitchen table as they waited for the kettle to boil.

“So, you want to tell me what happened to your finger?” Naminé teased. She sensed that it wasn’t a serious injury, otherwise she would’ve heard about it before now.

Picking absent-mindedly at the bandage, Roxas said, “I just cut it at work yesterday. I was working too quickly and not paying attention and, _snip_.” He made a scissoring motion toward his injured finger, and Naminé stuck her tongue out in disgust.

“Gross. You didn’t need stitches though, did you?”

Roxas shook his head, “nah. A friend stopped by and took me to the clinic, just in case, but I didn’t need them.”

Naminé was quick to respond, “a friend?” Her tone was one of disbelief.

“Thanks, Naminé.” Roxas said sarcastically. “Okay so, he’s not a friend. I actually hadn’t even met him before yesterday. He was just some guy that came in after I cut myself.”

She paused, “and then… drove you to the clinic?”

“Yeah. Well, not before he cleaned and bandaged my cut for me.”

Naminé laughed in disbelief, “So… a stranger comes in to your store, plays doctor, and then you were cool to just get into his car?”

Roxas rolled his eyes and stood to retrieve the kettle, as it had begun to whistle loudly. “Way to make it sound weird,” he prepared the teas for them, “he was fine. He seemed really… nice. And I can take care of myself, you know that, Nam.”

“I suppose so,” she looked down at the tea once it was placed in front of her.

Roxas was quick to notice her shift in mood, “you okay?”

She smiled fondly at him, “yes. You know I’m protective of you, considering everything you’ve been through. You don’t want to wind up in the wrong hands.” Roxas sat back down across from her and extended his arms across the table towards her. She took his hands in her own.

“Don’t worry, Naminé. I wouldn’t have gone if I didn’t have a good feeling about the guy. He was kind of odd, bright red hair and all, but he seemed genuine, and I clearly made the right call. He—He even stopped by the shop this morning to see if I was working again.”

“Oh? Is this mysterious stranger a potential love interest?” Her grip on his hands tightened. Ever since he had come out to her, Naminé had actively kept up with Roxas’s romantic life, insisting that he’d find the perfect partner to make up for his sordid past.

Roxas laughed at that, “don’t be ridiculous. I barely know the guy.” He paused, “he was… pretty hot though.” Naminé giggled and took her hands from Roxas so she could sip her tea.

Together, they had a quiet afternoon. With Roxas’s finger being out of commission, they agreed to not work on art projects and instead opted to watch movies until dinner had to be made. Roxas was particularly fond of animated films of any genre, and Naminé took a liking to them purely from an artistic standpoint. The one they chose to watch was a classic Japanese animated film from the 90s, and one of Roxas’s favourites.

Roxas smiled to himself as a fiery red haired character was introduced on screen, as he couldn’t help but be reminded of his new friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyo, I hope you enjoyed the chapter! The challenge I presented to myself was to write an entire chapter that didn't involve Axel whatsoever (save for some brief mentioning) because I wanted to take the time to establish some of Roxas's important relationships, past and present. I had a lot of fun writing this chapter, and I'll admit that I got pretty carried away at times. Let me know what you think, kiddos. 
> 
> Comments and kudos will be exchanged for treats to feed my cats with, so keep that in mind.
> 
> Chapter title comes from the song A Whiter Shade of Pale by Procol Harum
> 
> PS. The animated movie mentioned at the end isn't a reference to any one in particular, but the game that Roxas was playing earlier in the chapter was DEFINITELY a nod to KHUx.


	3. Enjoy the Silence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roxas receives some troubling news and delights in the company of a new friend.

The remainder of Roxas’s time off was relatively uneventful, which was not necessarily a bad thing, by his standards. After Naminé’s visit on Saturday, he spent some time with Aerith while they discussed the summer’s events and weddings over a glass of red wine. After her divorce, Aerith developed a penchant for wine. It was never a _problem_ , and Roxas rarely ever saw her drunk—when he did _,_ it was typically a special occasion and she only became more endearing when tipsy. If anything, he saw the benefits from it more often than not. It was nice to see her settle down and take some time for herself once in a while. Roxas took note of this after Ven had moved out and he made a conscious effort to join Aerith for a bottle at least one night a week. It was better than her drinking alone, and despite them working together, this served as better bonding time than anything else did.

Wine was definitely an acquired taste. At first, he could only handle the sweet white wines like Rieslings and Moscatos, but eventually his palate matured and he found himself actually enjoying a wider variety. Sure, he didn’t know a thing about the process of making wine or how to actually tell the difference between them without a label, but he was glad that he and his mother could share something outside of the flower shop.

They huddled over Aerith’s notebook, discussing plans and orders that had to be made for the upcoming events. Since he didn’t actually do any of the ordering or consultations, Roxas was more-so there for moral support and to bounce ideas off of. As they progressed through the schedule, Aerith decided that they were due to hire a part-timer for the summer. Though they both worked full-time and Roxas’s floral design skills were, admittedly, quite impressive by now, they were a lot busier than they had been the previous summers. Roxas assisted by typing out an online ad later that night in search of a part-time employee. God forbid, maybe he’d even make a friend.

Sunday was a lazy day, as it should be. Roxas slept in as late as his body allowed him to (which was disappointingly becoming earlier and earlier the older he got) and did next to nothing for almost the entire morning and early afternoon. After several hours of marathon gaming an old JRPG that he hadn’t touched in years, Roxas regretfully decided that he should leave the house to get some air. He missed the days of being a teen where he could play games for upwards of ten hours and still be energetic after it all. Now, in his mid-twenties, he was feeling the negative effects more noticeably than ever.

Outside was crisp and breezy, so Roxas threw on his worn-out denim jacket and plugged in his pair of headphones before leaving the house. He and Aerith were fortunate that they lived on the edge of downtown. Everything was in walking distance, yet he wasn’t constantly surrounded by the teeming city life. Though Twilight Town was sleepy in comparison to his past home in Radiant Garden, he was still easily overwhelmed.

Roxas made a turn down an alleyway and headed nowhere in particular, passively skipping through songs as they came on up shuffle. There was a large park in walking distance from their home, so he made his way in the general direction of it after settling on a song that suited his melancholy mood.

He had been enjoying his introspective alone time, wallowing in the warmth of his old denim, until he was interrupted abruptly by a phone call. Roxas was about to decline the call out of habit, regardless of who it was, but changed his mind after seeing his twin brother’s name on the screen.

“Hey nerd,” he answered.

“Hey loser!” Ventus replied, sounding far more excited than Roxas had, which was more or less the norm. “Is this a bad time?”

“Not at all, I’m just out for a walk,” Roxas said. “How were your exams?” It had been a couple of weeks since Roxas had properly spoken to Ven. They texted every now and then, but Ventus had recently been swamped with end of term exams and summer internship hunting, so he was forgiven.

“Ugh, brutal. Who knew medical science could be so _tiring?”_ Ventus groaned animatedly, and Roxas could almost imagine the look on his face.

“I mean, I feel like even I could’ve told you that.” Roxas laughed, “how did Terra and Aqua manage with theirs? They’re _done_ done now, right?”

“Yes! Their graduation ceremony is next week,” Ven sighed happily. “I’m going to miss seeing them around school, but I’m so proud. It’s really been motivating me to work hard.”

Ven had left three years ago to pursue his degree, and within the first week he’d made friends with Terra and Aqua. The pair were a year above Ven, yet the three of them instantly bonded at a program-wide orientation in Ven’s first year and had stuck together ever since. Roxas hadn’t had a chance to meet them in person yet, but he only ever heard praise from Ventus, so he could only imagine that they were as wonderful as he was told.

“That’s so awesome, Ven,” Roxas couldn’t help the slight feeling of envy that he had toward his twin; Ven seemed to have everything figured out—he’d always been that way. “And things are going well otherwise?”

“Oh yeah, I’m looking forward to the summer. I’ve applied for some internships and jobs, so we’ll see how that goes.” Ventus trailed off, “anyways. The _real_ reason that I called was to tell you that I’m coming to town!”

Roxas was genuinely surprised by this and his mouth turned upward in a broad grin. “Seriously? When?” He hadn’t seen his brother since Ven was in town for Christmas break, and with the combined stress of school and summer jobs (he couldn’t bring himself to leave Aerith alone with the shop), it was hard for them to make the trip out to see one another anymore.

“In two weeks, for the Dandelion Festival!”

The Dandelion Festival was an event that took place every June in Twilight Town. It was supposedly a week-long celebration of “arts and culture”, but people instead took the opportunity to partake in excessive drinking and partying. To be fair, Twilight Town had very little going for it in terms of entertainment, so it couldn’t be helped. Overall, the Festival was quite fun. Throughout the week, the town would host numerous markets and pop-up shops for local vendors and creators. There was a stage built in the park for a variety of live performances, including bands, musicians, dramas, and even some spoken word or open-mic poetry performances. The weekend was undoubtedly the best though; on Saturday and Sunday there was a night market followed by a _surprisingly_ impressive fireworks show.

“And guess what?” Ven hummed joyously.

“You’re dropping out of school and moving back home?” Roxas joked, although he’d be thrilled if it were actually the truth. He was truly proud of his brother, but it had been lonely without his cheerful other half around the house.

“What? Pfft, you wish. No, but, I’ve managed to convince Prompto _and_ Sora to come out for it too!”

Roxas laughed, “holy shit, seriously? We haven’t seen Sora in… what, two years? Does Mom know about this?”

“Yes she goes! I just got off the phone with her a couple of minutes ago, but I wanted to call and tell you myself. But yeah, I finally convinced Prompto to take some time off—he’ll be bringing Noct with him—and Sora was easy to win over.”

Sora was their cousin and one of the twins’ mutual best friends. The three of them spent many days together in their childhood, back when Aerith was still married and family trips were more frequent (though never frequent enough to become annual). Sora lives on Destiny Islands, a seven hour, expensive plane ride away. Sora and Ven were similar in a lot of ways, and if it weren’t for the appearance, they probably could’ve convinced people that _they_ were the real set of twins.

“Awesome! I can’t wait. Literally _nothing_ exciting has happened in my life lately, so this is a huge relief. Save me from this overwhelming boredom, brother.”

“Ah, so I’m safe to assume that there’s been no progress with the cute barista?” Ventus sighed. Roxas had brought up the barista to his twin several months ago, and he was beginning to realize how pathetic his lack of advancement has been on the matter. He couldn’t even bring himself to get a _name_ from the guy.

Roxas groaned, “no, none. Ugh, I don’t even know if he’s interested or just damn good at his job.”

“Does he flirt with other customers?”

“Uh…” Roxas pondered for a moment, “maybe? I never really pay attention.”

Ventus laughed, “ah, my sweet baby brother. What am I ever going to do with you?”

“It’s not like your love life is any more thrilling. You haven’t dated anyone since Amy and that was _three years ago,_ ” Roxas teased.

“You know how busy my schedule is, dude. That’s why I have to live vicariously through you.”

It was true, Roxas admitted to himself. He couldn’t imagine keeping up with Ventus’s workload, and dating on top of that seemed nearly impossible. At least he’d be well off after graduation, with his charming looks, promising career field and more charisma than Roxas ever thought possible. Ventus would be an impossibly good catch for anyone, unlike how he saw himself, Roxas thought.

“Well, I guess I just haven’t been in the mood then lately,” Roxas said dismissively. This conversation was quickly becoming depressing.

“Sure, sure.” Ventus paused for a moment, “hey, uh… speaking of your love life.” He sounded nervous.

Roxas approached a children’s playground, which was thankfully vacant, and sat himself on one of the swings. “What about it?”

“I ran into Hayner last week.”

Roxas was glad that he was sitting down for this, because he suddenly felt weak in the knees. After everything that had happened, he had expected—and hoped—to never hear from Hayner again. He wasn’t a fan of opening old wounds.

“Oh,” was all that Roxas could manage.

“Yeah, I wasn’t sure if I should tell you or not, but you know how bad I am at keeping things from you.” Ventus sounded solemn and apologetic.

“No, it’s cool. So… what happened?” Roxas lightly kicked at the pebbled ground beneath his foot.

“Well, he thought that I was you at first. I heard someone say your name, so that obviously got my attention. He realized pretty quickly that I wasn’t you after I had turned around, but he still seemed glad to see me. We went for coffee to catch up and we talked a lot. He was in town checking out my university—he didn’t say what he wanted to study, so I guess he was just scoping out his options. Anyways…” Ventus sighed, and Roxas braced himself before his brother continued, “he said he misses you. He… he seemed really upset and regretful, Rox.”

“Well, maybe he should’ve thought about that before he abandoned me,” Roxas said bitterly. Hayner had many opportunities to apologize and make up for what had happened, but Roxas hadn’t heard from him a single time in _five years_ since they broke up.

“He said he wanted to, but he was afraid. And then, by the time he was ready to reach out, we had moved away and he had no idea how to contact you.” Ventus waited for a response, but Roxas didn’t have one to give. “I told him that you’re living in Twilight Town and working at the shop. I didn’t give him your phone number or anything because I was worried that would upset you. But… I don’t know, I think he plans on visiting you soon. He wants to fix things between you two. I guess I just wanted to let you know so that it didn’t come as a total shock if he _does_ end up coming around.”

“Jeez, Ven.” Roxas hid his face in his free hand and groaned, “don’t you think this is a terrible idea?”

“I don’t know. But if anything, maybe it can serve as the closure that you never got?”

“But it’s been _five years_. I’ve been just fine without closure. We could be completely different people to each other now. Or even worse, what if I fall in love with him all over again only to have my heart broken _again_?” Roxas kicked at the gravel pitifully.

“Stop being dramatic. You guys are adults now. I trust the two of you can have a conversation without making a scene. And honestly, he seemed so genuine; I don’t think he’d reach out just to hurt you.” Ventus sighed, “Roxas, just… promise me, if he _does_ visit, you’ll be mature about it. Don’t freak out or make any bad decisions. I think this could be really healthy for you. Maybe you two could even be friends again.”

 

 

The conversation about Hayner had left Roxas in a sullen mood for the remainder of his time off. When Aerith asked him about it, Roxas had insisted that he just wasn’t feeling well—that he was tired—and she left it alone at that. Likewise, Naminé had sensed that something was wrong as soon as she had met him for a coffee date while on her break the next day.

“What happened?” She insisted as soon as they sat down with their beverages.

“Ugh,” Roxas moaned. He was glad that the cute barista (he really needed to get his name) wasn’t working today and couldn’t see how pathetic he was being. Roxas was wearing a worn out hoodie and had the hood pulled over his head to hide the mess of untamed bedhead beneath it. He had a habit of neglecting self-care when he was in a bad mood.

“Are you going to tell me or do I need to play a guessing game?” Her remark was teasing, but Naminé’s tone was still sympathetic.

“Ven ran into Hayner at school,” Roxas mumbled into the rim of his coffee mug.

“Oh, no. I’m so sorry, Roxas. Was it bad?”

“No, that’s the worst part.” He sat his mug back on the table without taking a drink, “Ven said he was _genuine_ and _regretful_ and shit. Worst of all, he wants to see me again. After five years. Like, why? Why does he need to stir shit up after all this time?”

“Are you going to meet him?” Naminé’s eyes were full of concern, and Roxas thought for a moment how thankful he was to have her as a friend.

“I have no idea. Ven told him that I live here now and where I work. He doesn’t have my number or anything, but that won’t stop him from showing up randomly. Like, what if he’s in town right now?” Roxas drummed his fingers on his knees nervously, “that’s it. I need to quit my job and run away.”

Naminé giggled, “don’t be silly. You’ll be fine, whether he comes or not. I think you’re underestimating yourself. Closure can be a very healthy thing, and I know how important he was to you.”

Roxas rolled his eyes and lifted his mug again, if only to occupy his hands. “You sound like Ven. I thought you were supposed to be on my side, Nam.”

“You know I’m always on your side. But sometimes I think it takes a while for you to realize what’s best for yourself.” She smiled softly.

“Sure. Maybe you and Ven are right. Maybe Hayner just wants to be friends and apologize for what he did in the past.” Roxas took a tentative sip of his coffee, “ _or_ , maybe he’s coming to try and win me back make me fall in love again.”

“I mean… would that be so bad?”

Roxas shook his head slowly, “I really don’t know. Maybe he’s matured and acknowledged his sexuality. Maybe he’ll sweep me off my feet and we can have the happy, healthy relationship that I wanted back then. But… I guess I just fear the alternative. Hayner was never the most pragmatic person.”

Naminé hummed in acknowledgement and sipped her coffee. “I guess we won’t know until it happens.”

Roxas scoffed, “unfortunately.

They sat in silence for a few minutes as they drank their coffees. Naminé was staring into her mug with a troubled look on her face.

“Hey, Naminé?”

She looked up at Roxas, “yeah?”

“I really appreciate you.” Roxas broke the tension by smiling at her, and she returned the gesture instantaneously.

 

 

Roxas was glad to be back at work the next day. It served as a distraction from all of his Hayner related thoughts, and though his time off was relaxing, he was relieved to have something productive to do again. As well, his finger was healing nicely and he had gotten away with only wearing a simple bandaid that day.

Tuesdays were particularly enjoyable because it always meant they’d be receiving new product. It was his favourite part about working in a flower shop, because he could zone out while cleaning and processing all of the new flowers. As well, he was thrilled to see that they’d received a shipment of venus flytraps. They were smaller than he’d anticipated, but he picked out the best looking one and set it aside for Axel. Now, he’d just have to wait until the redhead came back to visit him so he could properly thank him for the help.

Fortunately, it didn’t take long for that to happen.

Aerith had ended her shift at 4:00 and Roxas was finishing up with re-merchandising the display cooler when the door chimed. He spun around, ready to greet the customer, but was pleased instead to see Axel approaching him instead.

“Hey! Axel, right?” Roxas put down the bucket he was holding and met the taller man with a toothy smile. The excitement that Roxas felt upon seeing Axel again caught him off guard, and he had to will himself to suppress it.

Axel grinned down at him, “you remembered, huh?”

“Well yeah, it’s kind of an unusual name…” Roxas shrugged.

“Speak for yourself, _Roxas._ You wouldn’t believe the amount of times I’ve been called Alex, though.”

Roxas chuckled nervously, “heh, I guess so.”

Axel was wearing a similar outfit to the last time Roxas had met him—a black button down shirt and clean black slacks. Despite Axel’s lanky physique, the clothes appeared to fit him perfectly, and Roxas found himself finally being able to admire how striking the man looked. He must have just come from work again, though this time, his mass of red hair was pulled away from his face and tied loosely into a bun.

“So, how’s the finger?” Axel prompted, and Roxas was thankful to be torn from his daze.

Roxas lifted his hand to show Axel, “it’s fine. I didn’t need stitches and it’s healing well. I feel kind of silly about the whole thing, to be honest.”

“Better safe than sorry, right? And at least you got to leave work early.” Axel put his hands on his hips and stood up straight, “I’m glad I was there to help.”

Axel was easily at least six foot three, Roxas thought. He’d always envied tall people, his height capped at a mere five foot seven. Roxas cleared his throat, “yeah, I wanted to properly thank you for that. You were really cool about the whole situation, and I don’t think a lot of other people would’ve handled it as well as you did….”

“Naw, I’m sure someone would have helped, had they noticed,” Axel shrugged and continued to smile down at Roxas.

“You’re being modest—people suck.” Roxas blurted before giving himself a chance to think over his words.

Axel laughed, “you’re not wrong about that.”

Roxas looked down at his hand, “I’m sorry if I seemed like a total jerk last week. I was actually surprised when mom said that you’d stopped by again.”

“Huh?” Axel titled his head, “I didn’t think you were being a jerk at all. In fact, I thought you were handling the whole situation rather well. That was a _lot_ of blood.”

“Oh.” Roxas paused, suddenly feeling anxious. “Well… I got something for you. Just, as a thank you, I guess.”

“What? Really?” Axel looked amused. “You seriously didn’t have to do that.”

“It’s nothing, just give me one second.” Roxas disappeared behind the counter and retrieved the flytrap that he had picked out for Axel. “Here,” he offered the plant to Axel, not daring to make eye contact. He suddenly felt very stupid.

“Roxas!” Axel exclaimed and took the small carnivorous plant from his hand, “this is so awesome! Oh man, Demyx left his empty beer bottles out in the living room last weekend—Demyx is my roommate—and it attracted so many damn fruit flies. I didn’t actually think you could buy these things in stores so I came here on a whim, but… wow! Thank you, seriously. How much do I owe you for this?”

Roxas shook his head, very pleased with the outcome. Axel looked absolutely captivated by the plant and Roxas felt his cheeks redden. “It’s a gift, don’t worry about it.”

“I love it. How do I take care of him?” Axel asked.

Roxas smiled at hearing Axel call the plant a _him;_ he’d probably be one of those people to name his plants, too. “They’re pretty easy. Keep them in a sunny location and make sure they get lots of water. You can even sit them in a water tray so keep the soil damp. And whatever you do, no matter how tempting it is, _do not_ poke the mouths.”

“Will it bite me?” Axel asked, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.

“Well, yes. It doesn’t hurt or anything, but you’ll kill the plant if you keep doing it.”

Axel bit his bottom lip, “can I try it just once?”

“Okay. But just this _one time_.” Roxas smiled and stepped close to Axel. He pointed at one of the mouths of the flytrap, “see those little hairs in there? Not the ones that look like teeth, but the small ones inside the trap.”

Axel leaned in, “oh! Yeah.”

“Those are what trigger the trap, so you need to just tickle those and it’ll bite you.”

Axel stared at the plant, but made no indication of moving.

“So, uh… just touch it,” Roxas said, glancing up at Axel. Axel’s expression was one of… fear? Roxas couldn’t stop himself from laughing abruptly, “wait, are you _scared?”_

“No!” Axel insisted, “just kind of… freaked out by it. Plants don’t usually _bite_ people. How about you do it first?”

Roxas grinned, locking his eyes with Axel’s briefly, and slowly moved his finger toward one of the traps. He gently brushed the trigger hairs inside and the small mouth clamped down on his fingertip. “See? He’s gentle.” Roxas pulled his finger out from the plant with an air of confidence.

“Hmph,” Axel pouted and pointed an index finger at the plant, bracing himself. He hovered over the plant for a few moments before exclaiming in defeat, “I can’t do it!”

Roxas laughed hysterically, wiping tears from his eyes. “Here,” he took Axel’s hand in his own and guided it to the plant. “Ready?”

Axel nodded sternly, and Roxas’s body shook with lingering laughter.

“Here we go,” Roxas moved Axel’s hand down and Axel cautiously stoked the inside of the trap. The plant slowly closed it’s mouth over Axel’s index finger, and Roxas kept him from tearing his hand away. “See? It’s not scary at all… unless you’re a fly.”

“It’s kind of cute,” Axel sighed, seemingly reluctant to move his hand now that the hard part was over.

Roxas let go of Axel’s hand, not wanting to hold it any longer than was necessary. “Yeah, I love these. I’ll see if we can get some pitcher plants in for you, too. They don’t react like flytraps do, but I think they’re still cool.”

Axel pulled his finger from the trap, “I’m seriously going to have to keep Demyx from triggering all of these. He’ll be obsessed as soon as he finds out about it.”

There was a moment of silence as they both stared down at the plant, but it allowed Roxas to gather his courage and thoughts.

“Do you want to grab a beer after I’m done work?” He said it before he could stop himself. Roxas immediately went red and began to backpedal, “I just don’t know many people in town, even though I’ve lived here for a while. I just… appreciate your help and I thought it would be fun to hang out.” His mouth suddenly felt very dry.

“Sure! I don’t drink beer, but I’m down to hang out.”

“Of course, that’s cool. So, uh…” Roxas began, but quickly realized that he didn’t know of many places in town to go for drinks. He only ever went out with Naminé, or dinner with his mom or Ven.

“Monstro?” Axel suggested.

“Huh?”

Axel laughed, “Monstro, the bar. It’s pretty laid back and has cheap drinks. Want to go there?”

Roxas nodded, “sounds great! I’m off at 6:00. I think I know the place?”

“Perfect. I’ll go drop this guy off at home,” Axel gestured toward the flytrap. “And I’ll meet you there just after 6:00.”

“Cool,” Roxas said.

“Cool. See you then, Roxas.”

Axel left the store, and Roxas found himself frozen for a brief moment. Had he just asked Axel on a date, or was this mutually understood to be a casual thing? He didn’t even know if Axel was interested in men, so he decided to play it cool. Calm. Casual.

The last hour of work went by impossibly slow.

 

 

Roxas had closed the shop and was out promptly at 6:00. He sent a text to Aerith to inform her that he’d be out—he was twenty-five and aware that he didn’t _need_ to, but she knew better than anyone about his lack of a social life and so she’d inevitably worry if he didn’t show for dinner.

He arrived at the bar ten minutes later. Only now, he realized, that he might seem _too_ eager, so he allowed himself a moment outside to gain his composure before entering. The bar was rather quiet, but that was to be expected on a Tuesday, so it wasn’t hard to locate Axel within. He was seated at a window booth and was chatting enthusiastically with a server. The server, Roxas noted, wore his long hair in a ponytail and had an eyepatch. Roxas wondered if it was just an outlandish stylistic choice or if he actually needed the eyepatch.

Approaching the booth, he took a moment to observe the bar. It was a dive, but Roxas was okay with that. He actually preferred dives, because there was nothing he hated more than being scrutinized for looking dishevelled and underdressed. There was a small stage on one end of the bar, unoccupied, save for several amps and mic stands. He enjoyed live music, but never saw enough of it, so he made a mental note to check this place out on a weekend when they’d presumably have performances.

The bar, unlike most dive bars that Roxas had been to, was themed. Aquatic themed. It looked like the inside of a tacky pirate ship, complete with pirate flags, anchors, and other kitschy, nautical collectibles. It was ridiculous.

Axel noticed Roxas as he approached and waved him down, “hey Roxas!”

Roxas sat across from him at the booth, “hey. I hope you haven’t been waiting long.”

“No worries! I had my friend Xigbar here to keep me company.” Axel slapped the server’s back playfully. “Xigbar, this is my new friend Roxas.”

Xigbar eyed him up and down, “Roxas. Can I get you anything to drink?”

Roxas tensed under the one-eyed man’s gaze, “uh… yeah. Just a wheat ale of some kind would be great?”

Xigbar nodded and left; Roxas was immediately relieved to be free of his lingering, pseudo-pirate presence. “So… this place is interesting.” Roxas smiled nervously, doing his best to appear calm in front of Axel.

“Yeah, it’s pretty stupid.” Axel laughed and took a sip of his drink, which appeared to be… a gin and tonic? It was a clear, carbonated drink served in a highball glass with a lime wedge, so Roxas could only assume. His stare lingered for a moment; Axel had changed from his work clothes into a far more casual black tee and red flannel combo. Roxas was relieved to see that he wasn’t always as neatly dressed as he’d seen him the past two times. “Xigbar’s worked here for years and was able to hook Demyx up with a place for his band to perform, so long as they allowed Xig in the band. He’s such a scammer, but it worked in their favour, apparently. He’s a surprisingly talented guitarist.”

Roxas squinted, “I have to ask….”

“Hm?”

Roxas leaned across the table, speaking low enough so that only Axel could hear. “Do… all of your friends have an ‘X’ in their name? Even I do. This feels spooky. Like an alternate reality with weirdly specific naming conventions. Tell me, are we in Purgatory?”

A moment of silence, and then Axel’s whole body shook with uncontrolled laughter. “Oh man, I didn’t even _think_ about how yours could have an ‘X’ too.” He gathered himself and wiped the tears from his eyes, “Demyx is the only one. Well, and you I guess. Xigbar’s real name is Braig, and mine’s Lea, but please just call me Axel.”

“Are you an escaped convict, or something?”

Axel laughed again, shaking his head. “Nothing like that, don’t worry. It’s a long story.”

“I have time,” Roxas offered. He enjoyed Axel’s company, and he was genuinely eager to learn more about the fiery haired man.

Axel sighed and stared into his drink, his smile far more desolate than before. “We’ll save that for another day. I don’t want to trouble you with my tales of woe on our very first hang out. This is supposed to be fun! We’re celebrating you not losing a finger. Good job, Roxas!” Axel held his glass up in a rejoicing manner.

Roxas rolled his eyes. “Sure, but I really do want to hear about it sometime.”

“I promise.”

They were interrupted by a coaster being tossed onto the table, followed by a pint of beer being dropped gracelessly on top of it. “You guys want anything else?” Xigbar offered.

“We’re good; go slack off, Xig. I’ll yell if we need you.” Axel grinned at the one-eyed bartender.

“Don’t I know it. You never shut up.” Xigbar pulled his cellphone from his pocket and spun around, disappearing into the back room to presumably slack off, as Axel had suggested.

Roxas gulped his beer, hoping it would stifle his nagging social anxiety. Xigbar was curt and abrasive and Roxas felt horribly intimidated in the presence of the wannabe pirate-man.

Axel appeared to sense his nervousness, “he’s just like that—a sarcastic asshole. Don’t take it personally. It actually grows on you, once you get to know him.”

Eager to change the subject, Roxas asked, “you said he’s in a band with Demyx, your roommate, right? What are they like?”

“Oh,” Axel smirked. “They’re awful.”

That certainly wasn’t the reaction Roxas had been expecting. Curious, he asked, “are you in the band too?”

Axel guffawed, “I wish. Unfortunately, I don’t have a musical bone in my body. I can appreciate it, though. Nah, I’m more like a glorified roadie.”

It had been years since Roxas had been to a show. The last one he’d gone to was probably during the Dandelion Festival, and it would’ve just been with Ven. He quietly lamented over how uneventful his life had become since moving to Twilight Town. “Maybe we can go sometime? I haven’t been to a show in years,” he admitted. “Even if you think they’re terrible.”

Axel’s vibrant eyes lit up, “hell yeah! They have one coming up this Friday, if you want to come. They play here pretty frequently—it’s not like they have tours or anything. Demyx has his ‘real job’ to maintain, so he can’t up and leave as much as he’d like to.” Axel made air quotes with his fingers upon saying ‘real job’.

Roxas hummed, “speaking of ‘real jobs’,” he mimicked Axel’s air quotes. “What do you do, Axel?”

“Oh, I’m a software developer. It’s not as glamorous as it sounds, but it pays well.”

“That’s… actually really cool, and not what I was expecting.” Roxas admitted. His beer was going down quicker than he’d intended, but at least it was helping with his anxiety.

“What _were_ you expecting?”

“Uh,” Roxas picked at his coaster. “Maybe a server or a bartender? But for a _fancy_ place, just based on how you’re always dressed so nicely.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

Rather than acknowledging the statement, Roxas finished his beer. He was bad at this. “Have you been working for a long time as a software developer then?”

Axel glanced down at Roxas’s empty beer, “yeah, I guess so. I did a bit of freelance work after university, and I still do some on the side, but I’ve been with my current job for… just over five years now? They were just starting up when I joined the team.”

Roxas attempted to do the math in his head. If Axel had gone to post-secondary right out of high school, then he’d have been around twenty-two after a Bachelor’s degree, plus five years at his job would mean he’d be at least twenty-seven or so. It didn’t really matter, but Roxas was curious.

“So, how old are you then?” Roxas asked; he couldn’t help it.

Axel leaned his elbows on the table and rested his head in his hands, “guess.”

“Twenty… seven?”

“Oh, I’m so flattered!” Axel beamed, “I’m thirty. But it’s nice to know I still have my youthful charm. Do you need another drink?”

Oblivious, Roxas looked down at the empty glass that he was still holding. “Oh, uh. Sure. You don’t need to rush off, do you?”

“Nope, I’ve got nowhere to be.” Leaning his head out of the booth, Axel yelled, “hey, Xig!”

The few other patrons that occupied the bar stared at the red head with condescending looks. It didn’t seem to phase Axel.

A moment later, Xigbar appeared from the kitchen. “Fuck, you weren’t joking about the yelling, were you?”

“Me? I never make jokes,” Axel did his best to look appalled.

“You _are_ a fucking joke. What do you want?” Xigbar was impatient. Roxas didn’t know how these two could even consider each other ‘friends’ if this was what their relationship was like all the time. Perhaps it was only banter, and Roxas just couldn’t see through it.

“Roxas needs another beer, please and thank you.”

“You want another tonic?” Xigbar asked, collecting their empty glasses.

“Sure, I’m having a good time!”

“You’re fucking weird,” Xigbar left them alone again.

Roxas continued to pick at his, now unoccupied, cardboard coaster. “Are you just drinking tonic water?” He asked, trying his best to not seem judgemental. He didn’t have a taste for bitter food or drink, so he couldn’t imagine wanting to drink tonic water _just because_.

“Yeah. I used to love gin and tonics before I stopped drinking, so this is my subtle way of fitting in when everyone else is drinking. The taste grows on you, too.”

Roxas immediately felt guilty, “do you not drink at all?” Maybe this was a bad idea, asking Axel out to a bar. Although, Axel _had_ been the one to pick the place.

“Not really, no. I will on special occasions, I guess, but I gave it up a few years ago. It’s a personal choice; there’s no real story behind it. It’s kind of silly, but I just hate how it impairs my memory.” He said it all with a smile.

Roxas found himself admiring Axel for that. He was seemingly full of surprises, and it only made Roxas want to get to know him more.

“But don’t worry about drinking around me, if you are.” Axel continued, “like I said, it’s a personal choice. All of my friends drink, and it never bothers me. You get used to it after a while, and I prefer being in control of my actions. It also allows me to remember all of the stupid shit that my friends pull when we go out.”

Xigbar returned with their drinks and set them down, “you seriously can’t just yell when you want something, dude.”

“How else am I supposed to get drinks?” Axel squeezed the lime into his tonic water.

“Uh, fucking _wait_ , like everyone else does?”

“You’re no fun,” Axel teased, and then winked at Roxas.

Roxas attempted to smile in return, but it appeared more like a tight lipped grimace. He drank more beer.

“As if. You’re going to get me fired if you keep it up. Man, and _you’re_ the sober one,” Xigbar crossed his arms.

“They’d never fire you. Do you _know_ how rare it is to see someone with an eyepatch anymore? You have the perfect pirate aesthetic for this dive.” Axel held up the lime wedge in front of his eye, imitating an eyepatch, and growled, “arr, matey.”

Xigbar shook his head, unamused, “I hate you. I hope you get lime juice in your eye.” With that, he was gone again.

Roxas was, admittedly, in shock. Their dynamic was unconventional, to say the least. “I feel like he’s going to poison you one day.”

Axel laughed, “he’d never. As much as we fight, I know Xigbar has a soft spot for me. Deep down in his presumably saltwater filled heart.”

“I’m really curious to see what the band is like now,” Roxas pondered.

“Well, you’re in for a treat. Here, pass me your phone.” Axel extended his palm out towards Roxas.

“Uh, okay.” Roxas unlocked his phone and placed it in Axel’s hand. He had nothing to hide.

Axel began to type on the phone, and Roxas could only assume (and hope) that he was just adding his number. Axel passed the phone back to Roxas when he was done, and his suspicions were confirmed. Roxas looked at his contact list and smiled upon seeing the name “Axel” with a flame emoji beside it.

“Text me later and I’ll send you the details,” Axel said, a note of excitement in his voice.

The rest of their evening went surprisingly well, and the more time Roxas spent with Axel, the less anxious he felt (partially due to drinking beer on an empty stomach). Roxas told Axel about his job at the flower shop, and Axel seemed genuinely interested, asking many questions throughout. Roxas found himself having more fun than he’d had in a very long time.

When the bill arrived at their table, Axel snatched it before Roxas could even have a chance.

“Wait, but…” Roxas pleaded.

“Nope! I’ve got the bill this time. You can get it next time.” Axel grinned, taking some cash from his wallet and leaving it on the table for Xigbar. “Besides, I had a lot of fun!”

Roxas nodded, his face red from the combined embarrassment and alcohol consumption. “Yeah, me too.”

They parted ways after stepping outside, but not before Axel reminded Roxas to text him later. Roxas promised that he wouldn’t forget, and they waved goodbye.

Roxas arrived home that evening with a smile on his face. Lying in bed later that night, he unlocked his phone to text Axel. He wrote and rewrote the text several times, altering between trying to play it cool and expressing how much fun he had. Finally, he settled on:

_Hey, it’s Roxas. Thanks for the beers tonight. Let me buy you nachos or something next time._

Not even a minute later, he received a response from Axel (flame emoji):

_I love nachos. You’re on._

Roxas set his alarm and plugged his phone in for the night, his cheeks sore from excessive smiling.

He had a crush.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy moly. Sorry this took so long. Classes have started up again and I was at PAX last weekend playing the KH3 demo (I'm not even sorry). Because of school, updates might be slower at times, but I'll do my best to keep up.
> 
> Let me know what you think of the story so far!
> 
> Chapter title is taken from the song Enjoy the Silence by Depeche Mode.


	4. Personality Crisis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roxas doesn't know how to flirt.

Thursday was hot. Unexpectedly and unbearably hot. Roxas left the house late in the morning, and he wasn’t even halfway to work when he had to remove his denim jacket in a futile attempt to air out his sweaty armpits. He didn’t hate the heat or approaching summertime; he only hated when Mother Nature decided to pull the weather equivalent of a surprise hug from behind—it was a kind gesture, arguably, but he’d rather have a warning.

And where he stood, Roxas wasn’t in favour of surprises. The news of Hayner’s plan to visit had left him on edge at work the previous day, and the feeling only fermented ever since. Every passing hour meant that he was one more closer to his ex boyfriend making an unwelcome appearance. He meant no harm, Roxas was sure; Hayner never was a spiteful or cruel person. If anything, he was just impulsive, but he had a good heart. Alas, it was his impulsiveness that made Roxas so anxious in the first place.

During his Wednesday shift, he’d jumped whenever the door chimed, or did a startled double-take any time a curly blonde head would walk past the shop. It was unsettling, waiting for something that he had no desire to have happen. And when it finally would, and Hayner arrived, what would he even do about it? He wasn’t about to tell Hayner off, but he also wasn’t keen on the idea of “hanging out” after everything that had happened.

Naminé had counselled him over the phone after his anxiety inducing shift. She’d insisted that it would be fine, and Roxas was in a position to tell Hayner to “fuck off” if the situation took a turn for the worse. In all honesty, Roxas didn’t even know what he was so afraid of. Despite their messy breakup, Hayner had always been good to him. Roxas knew how hard coming out was and the unpleasantness of dealing with homophobia, so he didn’t even blame Hayner for what had happened. No, he just felt a mess of regret and embarrassment and overwhelming fear that he was doomed to recurring heartbreak. Some things were just meant to be left in the past.

Since Hayner left, Roxas had kept himself emotionally sheltered. He’d had flings with other men, but those were shallow and meaningless. And keeping his sexuality private was almost as nerve-racking as the intimacy itself.

So needless to say, he swore to keep his distance with Axel… at least in terms of intimacy. Of course, he didn’t even know if Axel was gay or bisexual, so that alone was reason to hold back. And the promise of a new friend—especially someone as charismatic and interesting as Axel—was motivation enough.

Unfortunately for Roxas, he couldn’t deny how attractive he found Axel, but that sentiment was intentionally locked away until he knew what to do with it.

He was genuinely looking forward to the show with Axel. Terrified, yes, but that wasn’t anything that a couple beers couldn’t fix. Axel had texted him on Wednesday morning with the time—“show starts at 8:00 on Friday, see you there!”—and Roxas was engulfed with excitement… until his thoughts drifted back to Hayner and the wave of nerves hit him like a sledgehammer.

The show would be good, he thought. At the very least, the loud music and night of binge drinking would serve as a much needed distraction. He was looking forward to becoming closer with Axel and meeting his friends—save for Xigbar, who terrified him.

Turning the street corner, the elaborate “Gainsborough Flowers” sandwich board came into view and Roxas mentally prepared himself for another day of work with a deep breath and a shake of the wrists. The shop was void of customers when he entered, and from what he could hear, Aerith was in the middle of an interview behind the counter. The interviewee had their back to Roxas, but he took note of their small figure and sleek, black bobbed haircut. He quietly passed the counter, nodding at his mother, and disappeared into the back room to give them some privacy. From there, he could clearly hear the interview.

“Sorry, that was my son, Roxas. He also works here. I think you two would get along very well,” Aerith addressed her guest. “Anyways, Xion, your resume and portfolio seem very promising. It’s surprisingly hard to find young people that have an interest in floral design, let alone be experienced at it. When did you first take a liking to it?”

“Oh, my mother always had a beautiful garden, and she would teach me the names of all of the flowers. From there, I suppose my interest in flowers and plants grew… I’d arrange bouquets for her and try to replicate images of arrangements that I’d find in magazines. I guess that was what started it. Ultimately, I’d love to work in Botany—which is what I’ll be studying in the fall—so until I was ready for post secondary, working in a flower shop seemed to be the way to go.” The interviewee, apparently named Xion, responded.

“Oh, will you be going to Olympia University?” Aerith asked.

“Yes! I’ve heard good things about the program. It’s kind of a niche subject, so I was happy when my family decided to move here because that meant I could finally go for it.”

Roxas could hear the smile in Aerith’s voice, “that’s where Roxas goes. He’ll be entering his second year of General Arts this fall.”

Roxas cringed upon hearing “General Arts”; though Aerith insisted that “no schooling is bad schooling,” his program was a constant reminder of how unsure he was about his future aspirations.

“Oh, that’s cool! It would be nice to meet someone before I go there.”

“Absolutely. Well, Xion, I have here in your email that you’d like to work three days a week… do you have any preferences?”

“Mm, not particularly. I’d prefer to have at least one weekend day off, but if that’s impossible then I can make it work.” Xion’s voice was timid, but it was clear that she was trying her best to make a good impression on Aerith. Fortunately, Aerith had a soft spot for politeness, hence her adoration for Naminé.

“Perfect, I’ll put you down for… how does Sunday, Thursday and Friday work? The days leading up to the weekend are always the busiest, as we’ll have lots to prepare for weddings. We’re closed on Mondays and Roxas is here throughout the week the help me out already. You’ll be working with him on Thursdays and Fridays, though.”

“Oh!” Xion sounded genuinely surprised that Aerith was considering her so seriously, “that’s… that’s perfect!”

“Would you be available for a training shift this Sunday? I trust your design skills, but I still need to take the time to train you with the register and closing duties.”

“Yes, yes of course!” Xion was audibly ecstatic, like her dream had just come true—Roxas wondered what that feeling was like.

“Do you have any further questions for me?” Aerith asked, and Roxas could hear the sliding of chairs on the concrete floor as they both stood up.

“No, not yet, but I have your email if I do. Thank you so much, Ms. Gainsborough—sorry, Aerith. I really appreciate it and I look forward to working with you and Roxas.”

The two thanked each other and said their goodbyes. Roxas waited in the back room until he heard the door chime before he joined Aerith at the storefront.

“That went well,” he said with a smile.

Aerith was collecting some papers in a pile, presumably Xion’s resume and portfolio samples, “it did! She’s _such_ a sweetheart, Roxas. I think you’ll have a wonderful time working with her. Here,” she passed him the stack of papers that she was holding.

He took the papers and skimmed the resume; Xion had several years of floral experience in various different shops. He flipped through the pages and examined her work. The photos themselves appeared to have been haphazardly taken with a cellphone, but the actual floral designs were stunning. Xion had a modern, Ikebana-inspired style. She favoured bright colours, broad leaves and waxy tropicals, very much like Roxas. But unlike him, she actually had the passion and skill set to pursue it.

“Woah, these are actually… really awesome. We lucked out with her,” he admitted.

Aerith nodded, “no kidding. She’s worked for some pretty big florists in other cities. I hope she’s not too bored here.” She took the papers back from Roxas when he offered them to her, and filed them away in her desk.

“She reminds me a lot of you,” Aerith said, smiling at Roxas. “It was quite surreal, actually.”

“Really?” He leaned up against the counter, “how so?”

“I’m not even sure. It was almost in the way that she spoke… and her eyes are like yours.”

Roxas and Ventus were blessed with vibrant cerulean eyes, which they’d inherited from their estranged father. They were one of Roxas’s few favourable traits about himself, and it almost made up for their lack of height. Almost.

“Weird. And we’re going to the same school. I hope you have a good feeling about this one, because _I’ll_ be the one forced to coexist with her.”

Aerith laughed, “you know my intuition. Anyways, we have a ton of product to process today. Hurry and help me out so I can leave early and start dinner.”

“Fine, you slacker.”

The day progressed conscientiously. Flowers were processed and sorted in the cooler, plants were decoratively wrapped and merchandised throughout the store, and customers were tended to. Once again, there had been no sign of Hayner, and Roxas felt his anxiety easing with time (until tomorrow’s shift, of course). As four o’clock approached and Aerith was preparing to leave for the day, Roxas made an impulsive decision.

“Hey mom,” he began timidly.

Aerith could clearly sense the worry in his voice as he spoke. She laid her purse down on the countertop to indicate that she was in no hurry to leave, “what’s wrong, sweetie?”

“Uh… do you remember Hayner?”

He wasn’t sure why he felt the need to bring it up, as Aerith might get suspicious, but it was a precaution that he was willing to take.

“Yes, of course! You saw more of him than you did of me during high school,” she said.

Roxas forced a laugh, “hah, yeah. Well… Ven called the other day and said that he ran into him. He said that Hayner wanted to come to Twilight Town to visit me sometime soon.” He took in a deep breath.

“Oh? Weren’t you two close?”

“Well, yeah. But we had a bit of a falling out toward the end of our friendship, and I guess I’m just feeling awkward about the whole thing. I just wanted to ask that you don’t, like, give him my number or something if he stops by. The whole thing is just stressing me out.” He looked down at his feet. If Aerith had any suspicions about his sexuality, his true relationship with Hayner would probably have been made clear by now, if it wasn’t already.

“Of course,” she said. Aerith remained calm, and her face was unreadable. “Friendships can be complicated, I understand. You know you can always talk to me about these things, right?”

Roxas nodded. She was constantly reassuring him of her support, and he’d be lying if he said it didn’t upset him. He hated that he had to be secretive with his mother, but until he had a better plan, that was how things had to remain. He smiled anyways, “thanks. Now, go home and relax. I’ve got the shop covered!”

“Okay, okay. Any requests for dinner?”

Roxas shook his head. “Nah, whatever. Just go home, you work too much.”

“I thought I was a slacker?” She smiled.

Roxas took her purse and shoved it into her arms, shooing her out of the store with a grin. She really did work too much, but there was no doubt that he was looking forward to the alone time. Aerith parted with her son after giving him a swift kiss on the cheek, thanking him for his work and promising to have dinner ready by the time he got home.

There were two hours now until the end of his shift, and Roxas chose to spend them wisely… by playing mobile games. He finished his daily objectives (all while cursing his addiction) and passively texted with Naminé about a new animated film trailer that they’d seen.

Shortly after five o’clock, the door chimed and in walked his new favourite red head. All of Roxas’s worries were immediately wiped clean from his conscience. Axel was wearing his work clothes, cleanly ironed black on black, and his red hair was pulled back yet again. He walked straight towards Roxas and stopped beside his work table, leaning against it.

“Hey, Axel!” Roxas attempted to hide his excitement, but promptly failed to do so.

Axel gave him a crooked grin, “hey, you. Are you even working?”

“Barely. My mom left at four, so I’ve just been bumming around ever since. I’m so bored that I’m tempted to cut my finger again so I can have an excuse to leave. What are you up to?” Roxas pocketed his phone and met Axel’s gaze.

Axel shrugged, “just on my way home from work, so I thought I’d stop by. I guess I’m old fashioned, and I prefer talking over texting… but not in a pretentious way. I’m actually just really bad at texting.”

Roxas couldn’t help but hope that Axel was lying, and that he just wanted to visit Roxas. In this moment, he decided that his most desired super power would be telepathy—the telepaths had it good.

“That’s cool, I’m not really big on it either,” he lied impulsively, and immediately regretted it. He was twenty-five, who was he trying to kid?

Axel’s smile widened, and Roxas got the sense that he caught the lie, but didn’t call him out on it. “Anyways, I just wanted to talk to you about tomorrow, since I was passing by. I know I said the show was at eight, but Dem and I wanted to hang out at Monstro for some drinks and maybe… some _nachos_?” Axel drew out the last word and nudged Roxas with his elbow suggestively.

Roxas batted his arm away and laughed, “wow, so subtle.”

Axel shrugged. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Roxas shook his head in defeat. “Sure, let’s do it. I’ll be off work at six, as usual. I can just walk over again and meet you there. I hope you like jalapeños on your nachos, because you’ll have no choice.”

“ _Love_ ‘em. I’m all about spice,” Axel winked.

Roxas chuckled, blushed, and averted his gaze. He attempted to pass off his awkwardness as him being distracted by something outside the window.

“Anyways, how was your shift?” Axel asked.

“Uh, not bad. We got some stuff delivered,” Roxas gestured to the cooler. “So it was mostly just dealing with that. Oh, and mom was doing some interviews. Nothing too exciting, though, but that’s my life.”

Axel looked at the cooler, and then back at Roxas. “Are you looking to hire someone new?”

“Yeah, just part-time for the summer. We have a busier than usual season coming up, with weddings and stuff. I think mom found someone that she liked this morning though, so that’s cool. She seems talented,” Roxas said.

“What if I want the job?”

Roxas paused, the look he gave Axel full of disbelief. “Uh… what?”

“Interview me, Roxas. Or should I say, Mister, uh…” Axel stood up straight and extended a hand out towards Roxas.

Roxas bit his lip to hold back a laugh and shook Axel’s hand. “Gainsborough.”

“Ah,” Axel nodded and returned the handshake animatedly. “Like the name of the shop. It’s all coming together. Alright, Mr. Gainsborough, I’d like to apply for the job as part-time flower… florist? Florist. Part-time florist.”

Their hands remained clasped, both seeming reluctant to end the ridiculous handshake. Axel’s hands were soft, warm and bony. Roxas wondered how they’d feel on his face, in his hair, on his chest….

Roxas ended the handshake abruptly and his hands fell to his sides. “You don’t want to work at a flower shop, Axel.”

Axel glanced down at Roxas’s retracted hand with a toothy grin, then back up at his face. “So far, this has been the worst interview ever. Come on Roxas, put me to the test.”

Axel was persistent, but if he wanted to hang out, Roxas was happy to oblige him. He was eager to spend more time with Axel, but also terrified at the notion of pushing his new friend away by getting too close. Axel was eccentric and well dressed, sure, but those qualities were barely telling of his sexuality in present day.

“Alright, Axel… Have a seat, please.” Roxas decided to play along. He grabbed a random piece of paper from the table and pretended to read it while Axel sat down. “It says here that you graduated with Honours from the Bullshit Academy.”

Axel kept a straight face, which impressed Roxas. “That is correct. I also went to Clown College.”

“I can tell by your hair,” Roxas mumbled while looking down at Axel’s fake resume.

Axel gasped and clutched his chest, “ouch, Roxas! Ouch.”

Roxas smirked triumphantly. “You set yourself up for that.” Roxas took a seat across from Axel and crossed his legs, tapping the not-resume with the back of his index finger. “Do you have any previous floral experience?”

Axel hummed and looked up at the ceiling, as if trying to recall. “Well, I once made a bouquet out of flowers and weeds that I picked from random gardens. It was for a girl that I liked in middle school. Does that count?”

A girl. 

Before jumping to conclusions, Roxas mentally insisted that Axel _had_ been in middle school at the time. Middle school meant nothing, right? People don’t usually realize their sexuality until later in life. Well, except for in Roxas’s case, but he chalked it up to him being an anomaly, or an early bloomer, or something along those lines.

Doing his best to appear unfazed, Roxas continued. “Works for me. How’s your plant knowledge?”

“Phenomenal. I’ve actually discovered three plants _and_ had them named after me. I can tell you about any plant or flower in the world. Any of them.”

Roxas snickered at Axel’s hyperbolic statement. “Most impressive. But I’ll still need to test you. How about you tell me about some of the plants and flowers that we have here?”

“Prepare to be blown away by the power of knowledge, Mr. Gainsborough.”

Axel stood up from his chair and—to Roxas’s surprise—wrapped an arm around Roxas’s shoulder, guiding him through the shop and to the floral cooler. Roxas suddenly felt very, _very_ warm. With his free hand, Axel pointed to the bucket of orange Asiatic Lilies.

“These here,” he said, “are Spanish Womble Lilies. They’re extremely poisonous. It’s actually very irresponsible of you to have them in this store—they can kill a fully grown man in under five minutes, Roxas. Shame on you. Unless of course… that was your intention?”

Roxas laughed half-heartedly at Axel’s fib. He was far too distracted by Axel’s burning hot hand on his shoulder. Or maybe Roxas was the one that was over-heating. Either way, his face was flushed and his mind clouded and there was nothing he could do to extinguish this fire in his gut. “Well… you got the lily part right at least,” he said, but his attempt to humour Axel was almost futile.

“Didn’t I tell you? I’m a master of botany.” Axel pointed to another bucket. He told another lie about another made up flower, but Roxas only half listened. Axel never missed a beat, and his arm never left Roxas’s shoulder. Roxas only chuckled when it felt necessary, but otherwise remained quiet. His anxiety was overwhelming.

Axel ceased his joking and turned his head to look down at Roxas, “you okay?”

Perhaps it was his imagination, or his desire to have it happen, but Roxas could almost feel Axel hold him tighter in that moment. “Yeah, sorry. I’m just…” Roxas looked up at Axel, into the piercing green eyes, “just a bit spaced out today.”

There was a brief moment of silence as Axel’s eyes scanned Roxas’s face. Roxas was torn between wanting to look away or keep staring; he felt embarrassed, exposed, but also a strange sense of contentedness. Axel made no indication of moving, and his expression was soft, yet entirely indecipherable. It drove Roxas insane.

The door chimed, and Axel finally removed his arm as a customer walked in. Heat lingered where Axel’s arm had been.

“I’ll see you tomorrow then, Roxas,” Axel said, as though nothing had happened. Roxas appreciated that. “Text me if anything comes up!”

Roxas only nodded and smiled at Axel, wondering if that was an invitation to text Axel about what had upset him. He wouldn’t, of course—that would be a recipe for disaster, and then some. Roxas watched as Axel left the shop before turning his attention to the customer.

“Hello, let me know if you need help with anything today,” Roxas put no further effort into making the customer feel accommodated.

 

 

 

“I think I like him. A lot. But I barely know him. I—I don’t even know if he’s into men. He’s just so… _cool_ and interesting and funny and easy to talk to. Also, very hot. Like, gorgeous in the most unconventional way. But what if I’m just blinded by his hotness? Like I said, I _barely_ know him. Fuck, Nam.” Roxas groaned. He was thankful that he had asked for his ice cream in a cup, because he probably would’ve crushed a cone in his fist by now.

As soon as Axel had left the shop, Roxas had immediately texted Naminé to hang out after work. He needed to vent about Axel and have someone hear him out. Naminé met him at the shop at six, and from there they’d gotten ice cream and began their walk home. Roxas had offered Naminé dinner at his place, but she’d already made plans. It made him appreciate the impromptu hang out even more; she always made time when he needed her the most.

“There’s nothing wrong with that, you know. Any of that,” Naminé ate a small spoonful of cookies and cream. “You have to stop assuming that your feelings are invalid. I know you’ve been through a lot, but you can’t help being attracted to someone. We’re only human.”

“It’s just… everything seems to be happening at once. Things were so quiet and then I met Axel and got the news about Hayner, and…” he sighed heavily. “It’s just weird. I feel like I can’t allow myself to have these feelings.”

“Sexuality is complicated, Roxas. But you’re not alone,” Naminé stirred her ice cream passively. “You need to allow yourself to feel emotions like love and attraction. You’re a wonderful person, Roxas, and you deserve so much love. You’re not being fair to yourself.”

“Maybe.”

“And you have such a wonderful, accepting mother. Honestly, if Aerith hasn’t realized it already, I can’t imagine she’d be upset with you coming out. You’re very lucky to have her,” Naminé said with a smile.

“I know I am. But every time I try I just… catch myself, and I can never do it. It’s such an irrational fear at this point, but I’ve pent it up for so long that it’s almost easier just staying this way.” Roxas stabbed at his rocky road ice cream before eating a spoonful.

Naminé sighed, “but you can’t settle for that. Whether or not she takes it well, and we _both_ know that she will, don’t you think it’ll be a relief to have this weight off your chest? You can move on, Roxas. You can finally feel honest and comfortable with yourself.”

Roxas responded with silence, which was enough to tell Naminé that she was right.

“I love you to death, Roxas. Sometimes I wish you could see yourself the way that I see you,” she smiled up at him.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you,” Roxas wrapped his free arm tightly around Naminé and held her close as they walked home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey friends!
> 
> This chapter kicked my ass for some reason. No matter how hard I tried, I just kept stopping and rewriting and, UGH.
> 
> Anyways, it went as well as it could, I suppose. I hope you enjoy it! I'm really looking forward to writing the next few chapters, so stay tuned for some fun times and new character introductions.
> 
> As always, comments and kudos are much appreciated!
> 
> Chapter title is from the song Personality Crisis by New York Dolls


	5. Dandy in the Underworld

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roxas is oblivious, but it somehow works in his favour.

Anxious was an understatement.

As Roxas approached Monstro that Friday evening, his formerly stable state of mind had since melted into a liquid… and then evaporated. For a brief moment, he even considered calling Axel to say that he was sick and couldn’t make it, but that thought was short-lived. He was going to _go_ and he was going to have _fun,_ is what he told himself in the hours leading up to the show. At least it was a relief knowing that it would only be Axel and Demyx with him at first. He’d get a few drinks in before the rest of Axel’s friends showed up, and things would be peachy. The plan was as fool-proof as it was anxiety-proof.

Tonight, likely because of the show, there was a bouncer outside the bar. He was tall, intimidating and had shoulders broad enough that Roxas wondered if he had trouble getting through doorways. He made an attempt to enter, but the strong arm of the man blocked his entry.

“You here for the show tonight?” The bouncer said.

“Um… yes,” Roxas replied nervously.

The bouncer looked him up and down with steel coloured eyes. “You got a ticket?”

Axel hadn’t said anything about a ticket. Roxas didn’t even think the show would be ticket worthy, no offence to Demyx or the owners of Monstro. Now that he thought about it, Axel hadn’t even said what the band was _called_. He took a step backward, “I don’t, but I’m here with Axel and… and Demyx?”

The tall man scanned Roxas once again, his expression firm and judging before it broke out in a crooked grin. “You must be Roxas, huh?”

“Yes! Yes, I am.” He had to suppress a sigh of relief.

“Axel told me to keep an eye out for you. Alright, go on in.” The bouncer moved his arm and allowed Roxas to pass, which he did so cautiously.

Inside, Monstro was considerably more packed than the last time he had been, but also not quite as busy as he’d expected. It was still early, and though he hadn’t been to a show in a very long time, Roxas remembered a general lack of punctuality being a theme at most.

He scanned the bar, praying that he hadn’t shown up before Axel, but his worries were cut short as he laid eyes on a mess of firetruck red hair. Axel was at a booth near the one they’d occupied last time and was conversing animatedly with a blond man seated across from him. The blond man, presumably Demyx, had what Roxas considered to be a very aggressive mullet. The sides were shaved tight against his head, the top styled upward, and the shaggy back left to trail onto his shoulders. On anyone else, it would’ve looked absolutely ridiculous, but Demyx rocked it with an aura of confidence. Roxas might even go so far as to say it looked _cool._

He approached them mid conversation and waved passively at Axel.

“Well, if it isn’t my favourite florist,” Axel beamed and shuffled over in the booth to allow some space for Roxas. “Roxas, this is Demyx. Demyx, Roxas.”

Roxas sank into the seat next to Axel, landing him face to face with his new acquaintance. Demyx’s face was narrow and his cheek bones sharp—he almost resembled a young David Bowie. Though his eyes were penetrating and narrow, Demyx wore a smile so pleasant that Roxas felt he was reuniting with a long lost friend.

“Roxas!” Demyx drew out his name as he said it. His voice was nasally and boyish, but charming. “So glad I finally get to meet you. Axel’s been talking about you non-stop since you cut your finger off.”

Axel choked on his tonic, “I haven’t been talking _non-stop_ , you fiend. And I’ve already told you, he didn’t cut his finger off.”

Demyx rolled his eyes and shrugged, his mannerisms resembling those of a bratty teenager.

Roxas was grinning uncontrollably, “nice to meet you too, Demyx.” The thought of Axel talking about him to other people was a relief to hear; he didn’t want this desire for a friendship (or more) to be one-sided. 

Demyx’s smile returned, “oh, thanks for that piranha plant, man. I named him Freddie—even though Axel didn’t agree on it—but I think Freddie likes his name.”

“Piranha plants are from Mario, Dem,” Axel said dryly, though his smile remained.

“They’re the same thing though!” Demyx whined, “am I wrong?”

Roxas couldn’t help but laugh at the discussion, “I mean… I guess you’re right?” It hadn’t even been five minutes, but he already liked Demyx. It was a relief to see that Axel’s friends didn’t all resemble Xigbar. Demyx was childlike and refreshing, and Roxas felt himself easing into the situation rather organically.

Axel looked appalled, “don’t humour him, Roxas!”

A brunette waitress approached their booth, and Roxas was relieved that Xigbar wouldn’t be waiting on them today.

“Hey, Demyx,” she said, placing her hand on his shoulder. “Axel,” she nodded curtly at the redhead, and didn’t so much as glance at Roxas. Her hand made small circles on Demyx’s back suggestively. “You guys need some more drinks?”

Demyx held up his nearly empty beer glass, “yes, please!”

She winked at Demyx, then prompted the other two for their orders. Axel held off on another tonic for now, and Roxas ordered a beer.

Before the waitress could leave, Demyx’s eyes widened and he reached across the table to clasp Roxas’s hands in his own, “Roxas, do a shot with me!”

“Uh,” Roxas looked down at their hands, dumbfounded. He could see Axel shaking his head in his periphery.

“Don’t let him pressure you,” Axel warned.

Typically, he wasn’t one for shots. He felt those days had come and gone, and now they just felt juvenile. But considering the situation he had put himself in that night, Roxas was eager to indulge in as much liquid courage as he deemed necessary. “No, no, it’s alright! I’ll do one,” he said.

Demyx retracted his hands blissfully, “hell yeah, let’s do it! Preference?”

Roxas had hoped that he wouldn’t ask, “um… something with tequila?”

“How about _just_ tequila,” the waitress suggested bluntly. Roxas assumed that this wasn’t the kind of place that specialized in mixed drinks. He nodded.

Demyx drummed eagerly on the countertop. “Can I get an extra lime wedge with mine?”

“Of course you can, hun,” said the flirty waitress.

“Oh,” Axel suddenly interrupted. “Can we order some nachos? With extra jalapeños, please.” He elbowed Roxas in a playful manner, making Roxas sway to the side and chuckle bashfully.

“Whaaaat? No spicy!” Demyx cried out, offering the best puppy eyes that he could muster.

“You can pick them off, Dem. Roxas owes me nachos,” Axel sneered.

The waitress gave Demyx’s shoulder one last squeeze, “I’ll go light on one half for you, hun.”

With a nod of approval, Demyx allowed the waitress to leave and ready their order. Once she was out of ear-shot, he rolled his eyes and groaned, “she’s relentless, isn’t she?”

“You’re just such a catch, Dem.” Axel snickered, clearly amused by Demyx’s obvious predicament.

“Is she a friend of yours?” Roxas asked. He was eager to side with Demyx in an attempt to gain approval from Axel’s closest friend. Sure, it was purely for selfish reasons, but it couldn’t hurt to increase his bond with Demyx.

Demyx sighed, “no. Well, sort of? She’s been a waitress here for a long time, and we always perform here. I think I flirted with her one night when I was drunk, and she hasn’t let up ever since. Ugh, and nothing ever even happened between us! I don’t get it!”

Roxas shrugged, “have you tried, like… talking to her about it? Tell her it makes you uncomfortable?”

“No!” Demyx held up his palms in defence, “hell no. That’s not how I do things. I’m here to have fun and make friends and drink. If I’m going to meet someone special, it sure as hell isn’t going to be at this dump.”

“Don’t worry, Dem, someday you’ll be playing in Madison Square.” Axel offered half-heartedly, “you can meet the woman of your dreams there.”

“Thanks, Ax,” Demyx sighed, but then scrunched his brow. “Unless you’re joking—then fuck you.”

“I’d never lie to you, babe,” Axel blew a kiss across the table.

Roxas laughed, “you guys are adorable.”

“Aren’t we? The wedding’s in a month,” Axel teased.

“You wish.” Demyx was less amused.

The waitress returned with their drinks, giving Demyx’s shoulder a squeeze as she assured them that their nachos would be out soon. Roxas eagerly accepted the beer, looking forward to a cure (albeit a temporary one) for his social anxiety. The waitress placed the tequila shots on the table before them, Demyx’s garnished with two lime wedges, as requested.

Demyx lifted his glass, “cheers, Rox!”

“This should be a fun night,” Axel grinned, sipping at his very non-alcoholic beverage.

Roxas picked up his own shot, readying the lime wedge in his other hand, “cheers.”

They downed the shots, Demyx finishing quicker and with far more grace than Roxas. Roxas frowned immediately and bit his lime to relieve himself of the flavour, “I forgot how awful that stuff tasted.”

“Well, especially the crap they serve here. The high end tequila is actually really good,” Demyx said in between lime wedges.

“Hm, I don’t think I’ve tried anything fancier than this. My family isn’t big on drinking, and I usually only go for beer when I’m out.” Growing up, Roxas wasn’t exposed to excessive drinking with family or friends. Not ever being popular in school, the extent of his teenage “partying” usually only consisted of chugging beer with Hayner and co. at the Usual Spot. Though he wouldn’t trade those moments for the world, they hadn’t exactly prepared him for nights like this.

Demyx gasped, stacking their empty shot glasses and pushing them to the edge of the table. “We’ll have to change that sometime soon! If you come see me at my other gig, I can hook you up with some good stuff.”

“What’s your other job?” Roxas asked, curious to see what kind of place would serve high quality alcohol _and_ hire someone with Demyx’s hairstyle.

Axel interrupted with a sly grin, “I think it’s more fun if we keep it a surprise.”

“You can’t do that! I’m so curious now,” Roxas pleaded. Though, he really did love the mischievous look on Axel’s face. He could get used to that.

“Axel’s right—I’m gonna keep my mouth shut. You’ll see, Rox.” Demyx giggled almost maniacally.

“You guys are the worst,” Roxas huffed, but couldn’t help smiling. He’d let them have their fun. Whatever this “gig” may be, it seemed like it would be worth the surprise… especially if it made Axel happy.

“You love me already and you fuckin’ _know_ it,” Demyx said. Roxas couldn’t deny that he was enjoying the man’s company—he’d almost forgotten what it was like to make friends so easily.

The nachos arrived, and they looked as cheap and haphazardly made as Roxas had expected. Half of the plate was void of jalapeños while the other looked… a bit excessive. At least their sinuses would be clear afterwards.

Demyx waited no time at all before digging in, getting his hands on the cheesiest tortilla chip that he could find. “So, Roxas, tell me about yourself.”

“Um…” Roxas began, looking to Axel for assistance. Axel shrugged, still wielding his devilish grin. “What do you want to know?”

“Where you grew up,” Axel offered.

“Do you have any pets?” Demyx said.

“What’s your dream job?”

“Favourite band?"  
  
“Favourite ice cream flavour?”

“Tell me your biggest fear,” Demyx cackled before shoving an unreasonably large cluster of nachos into his mouth.

“Alright,” Roxas drank some of his beer before obliging them. “So, I grew up in Radiant Garden. I don’t have any pets… and I have no idea what my dream job is. My favourite band right now is probably Modern Baseball. I like any kind of chocolate ice cream, and my biggest fear is being a florist for the rest of my life.”

“Damn,” Axel patted Roxas on the back with one hand and helped himself to nachos with the other.

“Now, you guys do it. I can’t be the only one put on the spot here.” Roxas was feeling more confident, but it was probably due to the sudden alcohol consumption. He awarded himself with some nachos.

“Hmm,” Axel began, but was immediately interrupted by an overly eager Demyx.

“My turn!” Demyx slammed his hands on the table, “I grew up in Atlantica, I have some tropical fish—oh, and Freddie, if he counts as a pet. I’m _living_ my dream job, dudes. Uh… I have too many favourite bands, but I love Bowie and Queen and Neil Young and Billy Joel and Elton John and The Who and—”

“Dem,” Axel cut him off.

“Okay, okay. Uh… I like mango sorbet, because I’m fancy, and my biggest fear is public speaking,” Demyx finished, crossing his arms and smiling proudly.

Axel squinted at him, “Demyx… you’re a performer for a living.”

“That doesn’t mean it’s not scary!”

Axel shook his head, “alright, my turn.”

Roxas turned in his seat to face Axel. He wanted to know everything there was to know about the red headed enigma. He wanted to know his fears, his passions, his interests, what made him excited, what made him sad, what made him laugh… everything.

Amused green eyes met Roxas’s. “I was born here in Twilight Town, but went to high school in Atlantica with Dem. I have a cat named Mickey, and my fantastical dream job would be a voice actor. My favourite band is The Clash, I _love_ sea salt ice cream… and my biggest fear is probably memory loss.”

That explained his decision to quit drinking, but Roxas assumed there was a lot more to it than Axel was willing to let on right away. He’d leave that for another time. Instead, he asked about a far less serious topic, “what the hell is sea salt ice cream?”

“The greatest thing you’ll ever taste,” Axel grinned, his stare never faltering.

If Roxas weren’t already sitting, he would’ve felt weak in the knees.

“They make it in house at Scrooge’s—we’ll go sometime,” Axel said, and disrupted the eye contact to have a sip of his tonic.

Demyx stuck out his tongue. “It’s gross. Ice cream shouldn’t be salty.”

“Says the guy who likes pineapple on his pizza,” replied Axel.

“ _So many_ people like pineapple on pizza, Axel. Just because you’re vanilla with your pizza toppings doesn’t mean you can shame us pineapple lovers. I won’t stand for this!” Demyx looked to Roxas for reassurance, “right Rox?”

“Don’t bring me into this, guys,” Roxas held his beer close to his chest for comfort.

“No,” Axel insisted. “Roxas, what is your stance on pineapple pizza?”

“I…” he looked between the two, “I’m sorry, Axel.”

“Wow,” Axel said, his mouth hanging open in disbelief. “You know… I thought we had something here. We… we shared _nachos_ , Roxas.”

Roxas held a hand up to his mouth to disguise his laughter, “I guess this is it then?”

“Don’t worry, Roxas. You’ve always got me,” Demyx assured him.

Axel and Roxas spared a glance at each other, and immediately began to laugh. Roxas was enjoying himself far too much, and the thought of spending more time with these two only made him feel even more elated.

They polished off their plate of nachos with ease, ordering another round of beers (and tonic) partway through. As eight o’clock approached, the bar became significantly more crowded with show-goers. Roxas was feeling the effects of the few drinks he’d had, and his nerves were almost non-existent. They settled the tab with the waitress (Roxas made sure to collect Axel’s this time) before leaving the booth.

“You gonna come back stage for a drink before we go out?” Demyx asked them.

Axel looked to Roxas and shrugged, indicating he’d be fine either way.

“Sure! I’d love to meet the rest of the band,” Roxas said. “Oh, wait. Before we go in… uh, what is your band even called?”

Demyx stared accusingly at Axel, “you didn’t even tell him what we’re called?” He addressed Roxas, “We’re Organization Thirteen. Written with Roman numerals, because it looks cooler.”

“We came up with it in high school. We were drunk and it stuck,” Axel said, placing a hand on Roxas’s shoulder and guiding him to follow Demyx’s lead.

Roxas relished in Axel’s touch, allowing the redhead to push him through the crowd. Demyx was stopped multiple times by fans, which Roxas thought to be such an interesting concept as he’d only just met the man and hadn’t even heard their music. He was very eager to see what kind of show Demyx would put on.

Eventually, they were able to exit the crowd and make their way through the kitchen to a back room. Roxas supposed it was meant to serve as a back stage if this place were more than just a dive bar. In the room sat a small group of people, only one of which Roxas recognized. Xigbar sat in the chair nearest to the door, holding a solo cup in his hand. He nodded to the trio as they entered the room. Next to Xigbar was a much shorter man with a messy head of silver hair that draped over half his face. Roxas found himself recalling his emo phase in high school and wondered if this guy just never grew out of it. To the silver haired man’s right sat a blonde woman holding a highball glass. She was staring at Roxas with challenging green eyes, and in that moment Roxas was thankful for the alcohol that numbed his anxiety.

“Hey, guys,” Demyx greeted the room cheerfully. The response he gained was less than thrilled. Roxas wondered how these people even came to know and befriend someone as excitable as Demyx. Demyx took a step back and wrapped an arm around Roxas’s shoulder, “this is Axel’s new friend, Roxas. And mine too, because he’s cool and we have similar taste in pizza. Be nice to him or I’ll kick you out of the band.”

“What could we possibly gain from being mean to him?” Xigbar asked, as if he’d never done anything wrong in his life.

“More like what would we gain from being _nice_ to him?” Said the blonde woman before finishing her drink.

The man whose hairstyle was reminiscent of early 2000s emo said nothing.

“I’m serious. Don’t be shitty,” Axel said sternly, and the blond woman mumbled something under her breath. Axel shot her a cold stare.

“You guys want a drink, or what?” Xigbar asked, lifting a bottle of rum from the floor beside him.

Demyx nodded enthusiastically and took an available seat. Axel and Roxas followed, Roxas sitting as close to his companion as he could without actually touching him. Xigbar produced two solo cups from a plastic shopping bag next to his seat and poured a generous amount of rum into each. There was no mix. He offered the cups to Roxas and Demyx.

“Thanks,” Roxas said, taking the cup. His head was already buzzing from the beers and tequila, so this rum would surely make him sufficiently drunker. Oh, how he’d become such a lightweight in his old age.

After it became apparent that no one else would initiate it, Axel began introductions. “So Roxas, you already know Xigbar. This here is Zexion,” he gestured toward the emo man. “And she’s Larxene.”

The blonde woman nodded in acknowledgement, “charmed, I’m sure.” Her tone was dry and bitter. “How did you two meet?”

Roxas looked to Axel desperately, but Axel had already spoken up, “Roxas is a florist. I went into his shop… a week ago? Yeah, I guess so. I went in looking for a Venus Flytrap, because Demyx left his beer cans out again.” Axel looked to Roxas, smiling fondly, “and when I go in, I see that Roxas has cut his finger open with some shears. I helped him bandage it and drove him to the clinic, and that was it, I guess. He asked me out for drinks after that.”

Asked him _out?_ Like a date? Roxas wasn’t sure if he’d heard that correctly, or perhaps Axel hadn’t realized what he had said. Did Axel think he’d asked him on a date? Were they _dating_? He couldn’t ask about it—not until he was either much drunker or more sure of their situation. If he did ask, and Axel insisted that it wasn’t meant to be a date, he’d risk ruining everything they’d built up so far.

He drank from his solo cup, doing his best to disguise the grimace upon tasting the cheap rum.

“Adorable,” was Larxene’s sour response. Demyx took this cue to change the subject, and Roxas felt immense appreciation for his new friend.

As they finished their drinks, the band argued over the set list. Roxas sat quietly, nursing his rum. He was eager to get back out and watch the show with Axel. He observed the group of friends—or bandmates, or whatever they considered their relationships to be— as they debated and chatted. Axel seemed genuinely comfortable with the group, offering his opinion and laughing at jokes whenever they were made. It was apparent that these friends had a lot of history.

Shortly after eight—Roxas having correctly assumed their lack of concern for the schedule—Demyx shot the remainder of his rum and stood abruptly from his chair, “alright, let’s go team.”

The bandmates mumbled to one another and stood, finishing off whatever was left of their drinks. Roxas watched as Demyx retrieved his guitar from it’s case—it was electric blue, and though Roxas knew very little about guitars, he thought it looked gorgeous. Xigbar retrieved his own guitar, Zexion a bass, and Larxene held a pair of drum sticks tightly in her fist. If he wasn’t already aware of their shoddy attitudes (not including Demyx, of course), Roxas would’ve thought the group was rather cool.

“Let’s go out,” Axel suggested, placing his hand on Roxas’s shoulder. He waved back at the band as they left, “have a good show, guys!”

“Nice meeting you!” Roxas offered. Now that he was standing, he could really feel the rum hit him.

“Sorry about those guys. We’ve known each other for a long time, so I’m used to it. I hope you weren’t too uncomfortable,” Axel said apologetically as soon they were isolated from the group.

Roxas shook his head; he didn’t want Axel to worry. Despite his questionable friends, Roxas was genuinely having a great time. “It’s fine! I can just be awkward.”

“That’s cool,” Axel smiled.

They pushed their way through the crowded bar and found a spot where they could see the stage well. Axel stood directly behind Roxas, the crowd forcing them close together. Roxas turned his head to speak to Axel, “is Larxene always that aggressive?”

Axel sighed and rolled his eyes, “yeah, ever since—”

They were interrupted by a bellowing crowd as the band walked out. Roxas laughed as Demyx practically danced onto the stage. It was surreal, seeing how many people were cheering in support for the band that he’d only just met. Perhaps they were local underground celebrities, Roxas thought. Axel cheered loudly from behind Roxas, which prompted him to do the same. They hollered along with the excited crowd as Organization XIII went into position.

Demyx approached the microphone in the middle of the stage, “hey Twilight Town. It’s been a while.” His boyish charm successfully won over the entirety of the crowd, and the praise only got louder. The band jumped right into a song—it was fast, aggressive and absolutely _thrilling._

The crowd closest to the stage was already rowdy; Roxas could see pushing and shoving and fists in the air in time with the music. As people pushed forward, it forced Axel and Roxas together. Roxas’s back was pressed against Axel’s chest, and Axel steadied them with a hand on Roxas’s shoulder. He could feel Axel moving to the music against him, and Roxas succumbed to the bliss.

If Roxas had to put a genre to the band, he’d immediately say punk… but then he’d second-guess himself, and maybe say post-hardcore. They were loud and energetic, much like the punk bands Roxas had listened to, but Demyx put his own unique spin on it that he couldn’t quite put a name to. He was a _very_ talented musician, as was the rest of the band. Zexion was calm and cool, but he plucked his bass guitar with alarming speed and precision. Xigbar was a perfect juxtaposition; he flailed wildly as he played alongside Demyx—Roxas could tell he loved the attention from the crowd. Larxene drummed with vigour and viciousness unlike anything Roxas had ever seen; he’d have to make a point to never get on her bad side.

After a few songs, there was a pause in which Demyx took time to address the crowd and chug a beer (at a frightening speed, Roxas might add). Roxas turned towards Axel, “you told me they sucked!” He was overflowing with excitement.

Axel grinned, and there was a look in his eyes that Roxas couldn’t decipher. “I thought it would be more fun if you were pleasantly surprised by them.”

Roxas laughed, and Axel gave his shoulder a squeeze. The gesture reminded him of Axel’s comment from earlier, of how Roxas had “asked him _out._ ” His face felt warm. Was he just taking things the wrong way?

“You’re cute,” Axel said.

Roxas stared blankly.

The band began to play again.

Roxas turned to watch the performance, not allowing Axel to see the perplexed look on his face. He had no idea what was happening between them. Until today, things were just… friendly, or so he thought. Was he really that oblivious?

Axel’s warm hand travelled down from Roxas’s shoulder to his bicep, and rested there. Axel leaned down, and Roxas could feel the man’s hot breath on his ear as he said, “let’s get a drink after this song, okay? I’m thirsty.”

Roxas shivered despite feeling like he was about to overheat, and could only nod in response.

When the song ended, Axel took Roxas’s hand to guide him out of the crowd. It was a completely unnecessary gesture, but Roxas appreciated the act of comfort. Roxas was relieved to be free from the sweaty bodies around him. Axel let go of his hand as they approached the bar and sat on one of two available barstools. Roxas climbed onto one next to Axel, stumbling as he did so.

“Do you want another beer?” Axel offered.

Roxas was sufficiently drunk, and he was enjoying himself thoroughly. He was grateful now to be free of the crowd, but his confusion over his relationship with Axel was making him nervous all over again. “Yeah, sure,” he said, trying to disguise his drunken state. “I think I need some water too, though.”

“Sounds good,” Axel waved down a bartender and ordered their drinks. He spun in his stool to face Roxas again, “so, are you having a good time?”

Organization XIII was still loud from where they were sitting, but Roxas was able to hear Axel well enough. He nodded, “yeah! They’re awesome, and Demyx is a great guy… thanks for inviting me.”

Axel smiled, “anytime, Roxas.”

Their drinks arrived and they both immediately chugged their waters. Roxas hadn’t realized how thirsty he was until the cup was in his hands. Maybe another beer was a bad idea, but it was too late to turn back now. He was thankful, at least, that it wasn’t more hard liquor.

They watched from the bar as the band performed several more songs. Roxas’s head was beginning to spin from all of the alcohol… or maybe it was from his anxiety, or even his feelings for Axel. His mind felt cloudy, though he couldn’t stop smiling; the band was great, he was full of drinks, and he was maybe, _possibly_ dating one of the most gorgeous men he’d ever seen.

From the stage, Demyx announced that they’d be playing their last song. The crowd hollered and chanted their name.

“MARRY ME, DEMYX!” Axel yelled as loud as he could.

Roxas sputtered and laughed before joining in, “I WANT TO SPEND MY LIFE WITH YOU, DEMYX!”

“INVEST IN A SAVINGS ACCOUNT WITH ME, DEMYX!”

Demyx clearly heard the commotion, and pointed in their direction, “okay, lovebirds. This one’s for you.” Demyx gripped his microphone stand with both hands as he screamed incoherent lyrics over Xigbar’s complicated guitar riff.

Roxas immediately regretted drawing attention to himself. He finished what was left of his beer.

“Aw, it’s a song for us,” Axel cooed. At least he didn’t seem to mind.

Roxas wiped his suddenly sweaty palms on his jeans, “can we go outside? I really need some air.”

Clearly worried, Axel nodded, “yeah, of course.” Axel spoke to the bartender briefly and was given a bottle of water. He handed the bottle to Roxas and led him outside into the crisp night air. Leaning against the brick wall of the dive bar, Roxas could still hear the booming music from inside and the echo of Demyx’s shrill voice.

“Are you okay? Did you drink too much?” Axel asked, his voice low and full of concern.

“Yeah, m’okay. Was feeling kind of dizzy,” Roxas unabashedly allowed himself to lean his head onto the taller man’s shoulder. If Axel was put off by the gesture, at least Roxas could blame it on his drunken state. The heat that Axel radiated was far more comforting than within the stuffy bar.

Axel lifted his arm up and around Roxas’s shoulder. “Don’t worry about it. I’m sorry my friends are such drunks,” he said quietly.

Roxas looked up apologetically, “no, it was my fault for drinking so much. They’re so cool!” He buried his face back in Axel’s shoulder and mumbled, “n’you’re so cool.”

Axel laughed, “you’re cool too, Roxas.”

“Pfft,” Roxas scoffed, his face still in Axel’s sleeve. “You kidding me? I’m lamer than lame. The lamest.”

Axel chuckled again, his fingers tracing up and down Roxas’s bicep. They stood together in silence as the band finished off their song from within. Roxas breathed slowly, focusing his attention on the fingers that gently tickled his skin.

“Hey, Axel? Can I… I wanna ask you a stupid question.” He mumbled, quiet enough that Axel could barely hear.

“I doubt it’s a stupid question.”

“It totally is. Really,” Roxas insisted. He lifted his face from Axel’s shoulder and stared timidly before averting his eyes. “Are we… are we dating? Did I ask you on a date?”

“Oh my god,” Axel’s hand ceased. “Did you not mean it like that?”

“No, no, no! It’s cool, it’s okay.” Roxas couldn’t help but laugh a little. The whole situation was so bizarre, but the confirmation put him at ease. “I guess… I meant to only ask you out like, as a friend, or whatever. To hang out, because I thought you were cool.” 

“Oh god, I’m so sorry.” Axel made an attempt to release Roxas from his hold. “Did I… Am I making you uncomfortable?”

“No! No, no. No.” Roxas wrapped his arms around Axel’s waist to prevent him from moving. “Stop apologizing. S’funny because it _is_ what I wanted. What I want. But I’m just so fuckin’ awkward, dude.”

Axel relaxed, “I thought you were just being shy. I didn’t want to push you.”

“Well, yeah. I am,” Roxas admitted.

“I gotta say, this is a first for me.” Axel laughed, allowing Roxas to hold him.

They watched as a flood of patrons began to exit the bar, all sweaty, drunk and stumbling. They overheard the crowd talking excitedly about the band and of Demyx. Axel and Roxas waited, enjoying the company of each other, until more than enough people had left the bar before they attempted to locate Demyx.

Roxas checked his phone as they walked back into the bar, “shit… it’s so late.” His head was pounding from the excessive noise and drinking.

“Do you want to stay over? We live close by,” Axel offered, but then caught himself. “And I just mean, like, for sleeping.”

Roxas laughed, “is that okay?”

“Of course! It’s late, and I feel responsible for you being so drunk.”

“I’m not… _that_ drunk,” Roxas declared, but his slurred speech and wavering walk told another story.

They found Demyx and the rest of the band in the back room. They were drinking again, which was to be expected at this point. As soon as Demyx saw them walk in, he yelled, “Roxas! How did you like the show?”

“You were awesome! You all were. I haven’t been to a show that good in a _very_ long time.” Roxas smiled. He sincerely had enjoyed the show and Demyx’s energy, despite not having anything recent to compare it to.

“Aw, you’re the best! Wanna have a drink?” Demyx pulled Roxas into a one-armed hug, holding his drink in the other.

“M’okay. I’ve had… a lot.”

“Yeah, Roxas can’t keep up with you guys yet,” Axel remarked, winking at Roxas. “You need help bringing things to the car, Dem?”

“Yes, pleeeeease!” Demyx picked up his guitar case with one hand and gracelessly threw it at Axel, who was lucky to have caught it in mid-air.

“Holy shit, don’t do that!”

The rest of the band mates cackled drunkenly. Larxene kept her eyes locked on Roxas, and he retreated from her stare to join Axel’s side.

“I knew you’d catch it, Axey. M’gonna finish this drink n’ I’ll meet you kiddos outside,” Demyx slurred. He attempted to make finger guns with both hands, but ended up spilling half his drink down the front of his shirt.

Axel slung the guitar case over his back, “you’re a mess, dude.”

“Yeah,” Demyx said, patting down the front of his shirt. “A _hot_ mess.”

“Whatever, be out in ten.” Axel rolled his eyes, and they left.

The bar was quiet now, but in far worse condition than it had been mere hours ago. Drinks had been spilled on the floor, glasses abandoned on tables, and cigarettes crushed into the ground. It was moments like this that made Roxas thankful he didn’t work in the food service industry.

They walked in comfortable silence to Axel’s car. Around them, the night life was still thriving. Across the street, patrons were exiting a lively English-style pub and talking loudly through the streets. It had been a long time since Roxas had a proper night out, and he felt his enthusiasm for them being rekindled. In good company, he could probably enjoy himself anywhere. He smiled up at Axel, and the redhead winked.

Axel’s car was only two blocks away. Axel tossed Demyx’s guitar into the backseat, “you can have shotgun. Dem deserves to sit in the back after he threw his guitar at me.”

“Yeah, he’s, uh… quite the performer when he’s drunk.”

Axel shut the back door, “ugh, you don’t even know half of it. There was one night after a show where he _insisted_ that I take him to a drive-thru for a burger. He wouldn’t shut up about it, so I did. Then he sang the whole fucking order to them, with percussion and everything.” He ran a hand through his hair, distressed by the memory. “It wasn’t even for a video, he just _did_ it. I think he’s fuelled by embarrassment, like a vampire. An embarrassment vampire.”

“Oh… my god,” Roxas snickered.

“Yeah, and people think _I’m_ annoying.”

“Hm… I wouldn’t say annoying. Persistent, maybe,” Roxas teased.

Axel raised his eyebrows, “oh?”

“Yeah. My regular customers are usually old ladies like Carol or Susan, but then you came into the shop… what, four times within one week?” Roxas took a step toward Axel, feeling bold.

“What can I say? I’m a sucker for pretty blondes.” Axel extended his arms to rest on Roxas’s waist, tugging him closer.

Roxas allowed himself to be drawn into Axel. He placed his hands on Axel’s broad chest cautiously, and looked up. Curious green eyes stared down at him. His heart was suddenly beating so fast, and the world spinning a hundred miles an hour. Roxas slid his palms upwards to Axel’s shoulders, then one to the back of his neck, running a hand through messy red hair. With a wave of confidence, he angled his chin upward and guided Axel down with his hand.

“So,” Axel whispered, his lips mere inches away. “How drunk are you, on a scale from one to ten?”

Roxas blushed and averted his eyes, “um… a seven? Maybe a low eight.”

Axel hummed, “alright. We’ll save this for another time then.” He squeezed Roxas affectionately before releasing him from his hold.

“This?”

“For when you’ve had less to drink,” Axel clarified.

Roxas nodded slowly in vague understanding. In his drunken state, all he wanted to do right now was kiss Axel. Their feelings were mutual and all misunderstandings were cleared. The alcohol had dissolved Roxas’s inhibitions, and he was eager to act on it. He’d been so patient.

After no response, Axel chuckled. “Don’t take it personally, Roxas. I like you. I just remember what it was like to kiss people when I was drunk, or worse yet, I sometimes _didn’t_ remember.”

He understood. Currently intoxicated, he wanted nothing more than to disagree and act on his desires, but he knew better than that. Axel’s intentions were good; he didn’t want to take advantage of Roxas being drunk. “Thanks, Axel.”

“You two better not be making out!” A familiar voice cried out down the street. Demyx was storming towards them with the hood of his sweater pulled up, presumably to avoid any unwanted attention, though his yelling would’ve undone any of that hard work.

“You can _clearly_ see that we’re not,” Axel replied just as loudly.

“Sure, sure. I call shotgun!” Demyx swayed as he approached the car.

“Sorry, Dem. Roxas already called it.”

Demyx stopped in his tracks, “Roxas. You—You’ve _betrayed_ me!”

Roxas snorted, “sorry, Demyx. It’s the shotgun law.”

“Ugh,” Demyx groaned, tearing the hood from his head. “You’re right. I don’ wanna go to jail, guys. Les go home.” He clumsily opened the back door and fell inside, a mess of limbs.

“Make sure you get your seatbelt on,” Axel said, closing the door behind him.

On the ride to their apartment, Demyx retold the events of the night as though Axel and Roxas hadn’t been there all along (even with multiple reminders that they _were_ there). He went over the set list, explained the meanings of certain songs, and cackled loudly at his own jokes. His drunken ramblings were bordering on indecipherable, and Roxas could only laugh along with his antics. Demyx’s energy certainly was contagious.

At one point, Mr. Brightside came on the radio and Demyx whined until the volume was turned up. A sing-along was initiated, and even Roxas allowed himself to belt out the lyrics, despite his usual crippling fear of singing out loud.

The song ended, and Demyx grabbed the back of Roxas’s seat, pulling himself close to Roxas’s ear. “You wouldn’t guess it, but Axel has the voice of an _angel_.”

Roxas turned to see Axel rolling his eyes, “really?”

“Yeah, dude. You have to catch him singing in the shower. I told him that he should join my band, but _obviously_ I’m the singer, so that wouldn’t really work…” Demyx trailed off.

Axel laughed, “stop telling lies, Dem.”

“Not lies!” Demyx insisted, slapping the back of Axel’s seat.

Their apartment building was likely one of the tallest in all of Twilight Town, but that didn’t say much considering the town’s most impressive structure was the train station clocktower. Regardless, it was quite immaculate. The lobby even had a concierge, Roxas noted, which he hadn’t often see in many of the (less impressive) apartment buildings he’d visited in the past. He commented on the place, and Axel humbly admitted that they could only afford it because they were splitting the rent.

Their room was on the tenth floor, but the trip up the elevator was staggered by Demyx’s attempt to press all of the preceding floor buttons. He was cut short by Axel, who wrapped his arms around Demyx’s torso and dragged him away from the panel. Fortunately, no one else got on the elevator, even as they stopped unnecessarily at floors two, three, six, seven, and eight.

The place itself was gorgeous. Compact, no doubt, but everything Roxas would imagine his own dream apartment to look like. There were floor to ceiling windows in the living room, with a view overlooking over the downtown area (maybe Roxas could see the shop from here during the daytime), and the small living room was well arranged. The kitchen and living room shared a common space, being separated by a narrow bar table, and the two bedrooms were on either side of the apartment. There was another closed door that Roxas assumed to be a shared bathroom.

“This is… really nice,” he muttered.

Axel looked bashful, running a hand through his hair, “Demyx has some connections. It’s really all because of him that we were able to find a place this nice.”

“That sounds shady,” Roxas admitted with a laugh.

Demyx cackled as he dropped his guitar case on a lounge chair, discarding his hoodie along with it.

“It’s nothing weird. He just made friends with a wealthy realtor at his other job,” Axel grinned.  


“I know errybody,” Demyx continued to take his clothes off in the living room and now stood shirtless before them.

“Dem, what the hell are you doing?”

“I’m gettin’ ready for bed,” Demyx went to undo his jeans, but his preparations were halted by Axel’s protesting. Axel collected Demyx’s discarded clothes and placed the bundle in the drunk man’s arms. With some words of encouragement, Demyx was sent to his bedroom.

“That was painful,” Axel sighed after the bedroom door had closed.

Roxas smiled, now ruefully aware that they were alone in Axel’s apartment. He’d only just recently met the man and was now having a _sleepover_. Drunk, he might add.

“Let me grab you a blanket,” Axel said, disrupting the noticeably awkward silence. “The couch is surprisingly comfortable. Help yourself to some water, if you want.”

Roxas nodded, and Axel disappeared into his own bedroom. The kitchen appeared tidy at a glance, but after opening several cupboards in an attempt to find a cup, Roxas discovered that their organization skills were severely lacking. None of the cups matched, and their collection resembled what you’d see in the kitchen section of a thrift store; he wouldn’t doubt that’s where they’d come from, too. Roxas chose a cup with Donald Duck printed on it and filled it with tap water.

Axel exited his bedroom with a throw blanket, bedsheet and pillow in his arms, “you’re all set.” He placed the bedding on the couch.

“Thanks,” Roxas said. He was relieved that Axel hadn’t offered his own bed for the night—that would be unreasonable, right?

“I’ll see you in the morning, Roxas.”

“Goodnight, Axel.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey friends.
> 
> Thanks for keeping up with the fic so far! This chapter was a lot of fun to write, and now I want to shamelessly write a Demyx-centric fic. I hope you liked my rendition of the wacky sitarist.
> 
> With this music themed chapter in mind, I wanted to ask you guys if you have any songs that remind you of Axel and/or Roxas. I've been building a playlist that I like to listen to when I'm doing my planning, and it's always fun to hear what other songs people have in mind for them. I'm always listening to music and it's such a big inspiration to me. If you're interested, I can share my playlist later on after I've filled it out more.
> 
> On that note, the band that Roxas mentions is Modern Baseball, which is a band that's very dear to me. They remind me a lot of Roxas's character, and I thought it would be a suitable favourite for him. If you're interested in checking them out, I recommend the songs "Tears Over Beers" and "See Ya, Sucker." Axel's favourite band is The Clash because they're also one of my favourites, and that was purely self indulgent.
> 
> Updates might be a bit slow in the next couple weeks; I have a lot of large assignments due, but I'll try to keep up as best as I can.
> 
> The chapter title is from Dandy in the Underworld by T. Rex.
> 
> Love you all!


	6. Friday Night, Saturday Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roxas needs to stop apologizing so much.

Roxas woke the next morning to the smell of burnt toast.

There was a light from behind his closed eyelids, and his first thought was that it had absolutely no right to be there without his explicit permission. He tugged the covers up, shrouding his face from the uninviting light—and when did he get a toaster in his room? He grumbled, and a weight on his stomach stirred. It was small, warm and… humming? No.

Groaning, he removed the sheets from his face and veiled his eyes with one arm before squinting at his surroundings. The first thing he saw was a round pair of round, yellow eyes staring back at him. The eyes blinked.

“Wha—” he mumbled.

“Good morning, sunshine!” A too cheerful voice rang out, making Roxas cover his eyes entirely with his arm. “I see you’ve met Mickey.” The voice was nasally and boyish, and Roxas recognized it immediately.

_Right_.

He was in their apartment—Axel and Demyx’s fancy apartment. They’d taken him back to their place after it had gotten late, and Roxas had gotten a bit too drunk. Drunker than he’d been in a very long time. Everything was coming back now; he remembered the show, the interactions with Demyx’s bandmates, the nachos, the drinks… and his embarrassing conversation with Axel at the end of the night. Wishing the latter was only a drunken fantasy (but knowing full well that it wasn’t), he sighed and blinked hard in an attempt to focus his sleep-ridden eyes.

Roxas uncovered his face and sat up, carefully shifting the cat (Mickey?) to a comfortable spot on his lap. He’d slept in his clothes, and immediately upon uncovering his torso from the blanket, he was overwhelmed by the dank stench of sweat, beer and second hand cigarette smoke still clinging to his shirt. Lovely.

Demyx was in the kitchen, and despite his excessive drinking the night before, he looked fantastic—bully for him, Roxas thought. Demyx was plating some nearly blackened toast and loading it with a thick layer of peanut butter and jam all while humming to himself. That explained the smell, at least.

“How are you still alive?” Roxas asked groggily, holding his head in his hands. He could feel the threatening ebb and flow of nausea in his stomach.

“I have great constitution,” Demyx said proudly. If Roxas hadn’t been there at the show, he never would’ve guessed that Demyx had even a single drink the night before. “And I take my vitamins. Want some breakfast?”

“Burnt toast?” Roxas asked; he hadn’t meant for it to be snarky. He had poor judgement in the morning, especially when his head was pounding like it was and his stomach was practicing its backflips. He stroked the cat behind the ears. It was a handsome black and white tuxedo with a red bowtie collar. He (or she?) began to purr loudly with Roxas’s gentle scratches.

“Oh, come on. It’s not _that_ bad! It just… smells that way. Do you want some or not?” Demyx held up a couple slices of bread above the toaster, prepared to drop them in at Roxas’s request.

“That would be awesome, thanks.” Roxas sighed, grimacing as he caught his own stench again. Fortunately, Mickey didn’t seem to mind. “Where’s Axel?”

“He went to grab some coffee for us—we ran out of grounds yesterday.”

“My hero.” After giving what he thought were sufficient behind-the-ear scratches, Roxas moved his hand to stroke Mickey’s back. Mickey purred loudly and rolled onto his (her?) side.

“Hey, I had a lot of fun last night, Rox! I’m really glad you were able to come out. I don’t get to play those shows as often as I used to, so it’s always a blast when I get to let loose. I’m sorry if I made you drink too much, man,” Demyx said, his tone genuinely apologetic. Roxas hadn’t blamed Demyx—his own nerves were at fault, entirely. He suspected Axel may have lectured Demyx after he’d fed Roxas too many drinks, hence the apology.

“Not your fault at all,” Roxas smiled. “I was nervous and it kind of escalated, I guess… Axel’s so smart for not drinking.”

Demyx looked forlorn, “well, after what happened to his mom, I get it. But I’m glad he’s never been a stick in the mud about it. He’s a good sport.”

The hand petting Mickey stilled, “his mom?”

“Oh,” Demyx said quietly. “Sorry, I guess he hasn’t told you. I, um… fuck. It’s a long story, and it’s not really my place to say. Axel’s been through a lot—I’m sure he’ll tell you soon, yeah.” The toast popped up from the toaster, and Demyx yelped in surprise.

“I understand. I figured there was a lot more to it,” Roxas admitted. His impression of the redhead was positive and accommodating and… warm, at least from what he’d experienced. He tried to imagine what could’ve happened to Axel’s mother—death? addiction? abuse?—but thought it best to leave the topic until it came up genuinely. He was in no place to pry just yet, and certainly not when Axel wasn’t present.

“Yeah…” Demyx trailed off, plating Roxas’s breakfast. “What do you want on your toast?”

“Jam’s fine. Thanks.”

“No worries, my dude.” Demyx spread an unnecessarily large gob of strawberry jam onto the (slightly less burnt) toast. Roxas said nothing, as the man was doing his best to be hospitable.

The front door swung open and Axel walked in with a cardboard tray of coffee cups. His hair looked freshly washed and it was tied up in a messy bun. It looked incredibly soft, Roxas noted. Axel was wearing a grey v-neck, black jeans and the same flannel button down he’d worn on their first alleged date. Roxas smiled warmly, and Axel returned it.

“Coffee!” Demyx cheered in a sing-song voice, quite obviously doing his best to disguise the solemn mood.

“Here’s your mocha.” Axel didn’t seem to have noticed, placing a cup on the counter for Demyx. “Uh, I just got you a black coffee, Roxas. I hope that’s okay. We have some cream in the fridge if you need it.”

“That’s perfect, thank you.”

Upon seeing Axel, Mickey leapt from Roxas’s lap and bounded over to their owner, rubbing against Axel’s long legs and meowing incessantly. “Hey, Mick,” Axel cooed, leaning down to scratch the cat’s chin with his free hand.

Painfully aware of his present situation, being the only one still in bed (or couch), Roxas kicked off the blankets and stood. His back cracked noisily as he stretched; couches weren’t meant for adults to sleep on. Folding the blankets, he bundled the sheets and pillow neatly together on the couch as Axel and Demyx chatted in the kitchen area. The world around him threatened to spin as he approached the bar, eager to cure his hangover by means of toast and caffeine.

Roxas’s attention to the conversation wavered as he ate and drank. Demyx was telling some story about Xigbar that he would’ve paid more attention to if not for the loud throbbing in his skull.

He still had an hour before he had to leave for work. That would allow enough time for him to go home, shower and change, ridding himself of the awful post-show smell that he was too agonizingly aware of.

“I think I’m going to head home and shower before work,” he said during a brief pause in Demyx’s very one-sided conversation.

“Huh? Just have one here,” Demyx offered.

Axel nodded.

“I don’t have a change of clothes or anything, though. It’s cool—I can still make it in time.” Although true, showering at their place would mean that Roxas wouldn’t have to rush and could instead take his time to will away his hangover.

“You can borrow one of my shirts,” Axel shrugged cooly.

Roxas couldn’t bring himself to argue.

And that was how he ended up wearing Axel’s faded black crew neck sweater, smelling of Axel’s body wash, and using a humble portion of Axel’s hair styling wax in his hair. The shower had been beyond heavenly, and because he’d saved time by staying, Roxas allowed himself several more minutes to wash the post-show stench off.

Axel had offered to drive Roxas to work, and after some protesting on Roxas’s behalf, Axelinsisted that it would be on the way to his errands anyways and that it wouldn’t make a difference. Roxas agreed, for the sake of convenience. They shared a bashful ride down the elevator, sipping their coffees and chatting idly. Axel caught Roxas’s lingering blush and smiled to himself the whole way down to the car lot.

“I’m so sorry about last night,” Roxas blurted as soon as Axel had started the car.

Axel shrugged, “what’s there to be sorry about? You were drunk.”

Roxas frowned, kneading the shirt that was bundled in his lap (it smelled so bad). “I just panicked—I haven’t been on a proper date in a long time and I just—”

Axel interrupted him with a smirk, “stop, Roxas. It’ll take a lot more than you being awkward and drunk to scare me away. Give me some credit.”

“Okay. I get it, I’m sorr—”

Axel shushed him and backed the car out of the parking space, “no more apologies.” He paused to look at Roxas, and insisted with a gentle smile, “You’re fun. You’re cute. I had a great time, Roxas.”

Roxas bit his lip and nodded, unable to respond with words that would suffice.

 

 

“Well, _someone_ had a good night,” Aerith teased.

Roxas dragged his feet in the store and dumped his belongings—jacket and smelly shirt—onto a chair in the back room. Though he was feeling leagues better than he had when he first woke up, his face was still three shades paler than usual and leaning more on the green spectrum of the colour wheel.

“Yeah, I may have had too much to drink,” he admitted.

“Where did you stay?” She asked with a note of curiosity. She was meticulously arranging a hand tied bouquet of assorted yellow and orange flowers.

He finished his coffee, now cold, and tossed the empty cup into the recycling bin. “At Axel and Demyx’s place. Demyx is the one whose band was performing. They let me sleep on their couch.”

“Demyx?” Aerith’s brow raised in surprise.

“Uh…” Roxas stared, “yeah. Do you know him or something?”

She smiled, “he’s kind of a local celebrity, Roxas. Do you seriously not know about this?”

“I mean… I guess I realized that last night,” he shrugged. It was official—he needed to get out more.

“Were you at Turner’s Pub?”

Roxas shook his head, “no, we were at Monstro. It’s a dive. He has a punk band called Organization Thirteen.”

Aerith smiled, “ah, I’ve only seen him at Turner’s.”

“Wait,” Roxas gaped. “You’ve seen _Demyx’s_ band?”

She laughed, adding some broad monstera leaves to frame her bouquet. “Not his punk band, but I’ve seen his cover band, or whatever it is—I can’t remember what they’re called. He performs at Turner’s a few times a week. Honestly, he’s probably the only reason that place is still as popular as it is.”

Roxas sputtered, “he has a _cover_ band too? What do they play?”

Aerith tied the bouquet together tightly, “it was mostly 80s covers, I think. It’s a lot of fun, because he really plays the part well, with the hair and everything. I went with Tifa last time she was in town.” Tifa was Aerith’s sister and mother to Roxas’s favourite cousin, Sora. He remembered them going out together last time she’d been in town, but Roxas thought little of it at the time, having been preoccupied with whatever he, Ven and Sora were up to then.

“You’re way cooler than I give you credit for,” Roxas smiled fondly.

“I know,” she clipped the stems of her bouquet with a grin.

Their work day proceeded like any other. Customers came and went, old ladies complained about their dying plants, and high school girls prodded at the succulents with their manicured fingernails. By the afternoon, Roxas had recovered from his hangover almost entirely, the only lingering symptom being a slight headache.

On his much deserved coffee break, he took the opportunity to text Axel (flame emoji) about his new findings:

_So… Demyx has an 80s cover band?_

He felt a vibration in his pocket as he approached the coffee shop. Axel (flame emoji) replied:

_How did you find out?!_

Roxas quickly typed out a response before approaching the counter:

_My mom’s a fan. I’d love to go sometime soon, if you want to._

Roxas bit his lip as he typed out the last sentence, and forced himself to hit send. He was determined to make up for the previous night. He pocketed his phone and made for the counter. The cute barista was there, and if Roxas hadn’t been distracted by Axel’s texts, he may have noticed how his heart no longer fluttered at the sight.

“Hey, flower boy,” said the barista.

Roxas smiled and ordered a latte. He watched as the barista rang in his order and took his payment. He seemed quieter today, almost nervous, Roxas thought. Even as he prepared the coffee, Roxas noticed how he hands quivered so slightly and he’d apprehensively glance at Roxas in between pouring the espresso shots and steamed milk.

“Here’s you latte,” the barista said, loud enough for only Roxas to hear. He was smiling, lips pulled tight and his bright eyes locked with Roxas’s own. There was a sharp intake of breath, before Roxas could thank him and leave, when the Barista said, “so, I’ve been meaning to ask… can I take you out sometime?”

“Oh…” was Roxas’s brilliant response. He felt a vibration in his pocket.

The barista, flustered by Roxas’s lacklustre reply, blushed. “I know I shouldn’t be asking you out while at work, but I just see you all the time and—you’re cute and we seem to click, so I thought….”

Roxas raised his hands in defence; he’d been entirely unprepared for this. “No, I—yeah, I totally agree. But… I’m sorry, I just started seeing someone recently and it’s going well, I think.” It felt good to admit, and even better knowing that it wasn’t just his imagination anymore.

“Aw, damn, I knew it!”

“Huh?”

“You just came in with this _look_ on your face. You were smiling and blushing, and I just knew I had to go for it,” the barista sighed, his usual charming smile returning.“I was hoping it was because of me, honestly.” He laughed loudly, and Roxas remembered why he’d even started crushing on him in the first place.

“I’m sorry,” Roxas said, his voice small.

“Hey, don’t be sorry! No hard feelings,” the barista said confidently. “I was just a victim of circumstance, but I’m glad things are working out for you.”

Roxas smiled appreciatively, “I’m Roxas, by the way.”

The barista chuckled, “Zack. Nice to properly meet you, Roxas.”

Roxas left the shop, a mess of confusion and reverie. After he’d been asked out, he decided it best to go for a walk rather than linger in the shop any longer than he needed to. Zack had taken the news very well, which he was thankful for, but he couldn’t help feeling shaken by the phenomenon. Roxas hadn’t changed at all, at least not that he was consciously aware of. On the contrary, Roxas thought he maintained such a mundane life that it’d actually _repel_ people, rather than draw them to him. And yet here he was, with the news of Hayner, his relationship with Axel (or whatever it was), and being asked out by Zack—perhaps he wasn’t as undesirable as he’d assumed.

He checked his phone, remembering that it had buzzed during his conversation with Zack. Axel (flame emoji) had replied with:

_That makes sense. Middle-aged ladies love Dem._

_Wanna go tomorrow night? He starts at 7:00._

The grip on his coffee tightened. It was so soon, but he supposed he’d take this as a good sign, knowing that Axel wanted to see him again. He replied with confirmation before he could convince himself otherwise, and then promptly dialled Naminé.

“Hey, Roxas,” she said calmly on the other end. She’d most likely be in the middle of painting, as she usually was on Saturday afternoons.

“Hey, Nam. Are you busy tonight? Can we go for dinner, or something?”

“Is everything okay?”

Roxas heard a clatter on the other line, and the sound of a paintbrush being swished in a glass of water. He nodded, though she couldn’t see, “yeah. Great, actually. I just have news. A lot of news.”

She hummed, “ooh, I can’t wait. I’ll meet you at the shop at 6:00.”

“You’re the best, Nam. We’ll go to that new vegan place that you mentioned.”

 

 

As usual, Naminé hadn’t been a moment early, nor a moment late. She had a knack for punctuality unlike anyone that Roxas had ever known, and he used to suspect that she was a witch because of it. Deep down, he still thought that might be the case; she lacked the neurosis that typically went hand in hand with most other perfectionists, which only strengthened his hypothesis.

In the final half hour of his shift, he’d prepared a small bouquet of older flowers for Naminé—the ones that they could no longer sell at full price—before closing the shop. Aerith had insisted long ago that Roxas use or take the older flowers rather than have them go to waste. Though, being a single, in-the-closet gay man in his mid twenties, he often never felt the need to bring flowers to anyone besides Naminé. She enjoyed using them as painting references, and always appreciated the kind gesture. Today’s bouquet consisted of some fully opened pink lilies, a deep red peony that looked about ready to burst, and some floppy gerbera daisies.

Naminé was waiting outside against the wall as Roxas locked up the store, tying her blonde hair into a loose braid. He embraced her tightly and offered her the small bouquet. Though they weren’t (and obviously never had the inkling to be) romantically involved, Roxas still appreciated that he had a special, close relationship with Naminé. It was almost like dating but without the romance, and it allowed for a unique blend of intimacy that had never been present before in any of Roxas’s friendships, whatever that meant.

On their walk, Naminé told him about her new painting projects and her desire to merge her still-life subjects with more conceptual themes. She’d splurged on a new oil painting brush set earlier in the week, and Roxas smiled at the excitement welling in her eyes and she explained the significance of the upgrade. He knew that some day she’d be in galleries far greater than the likes of Twilight Town.

The restaurant they’d settled on, the vegan one, was clean and brightly coloured with cushioned furniture, wooden tables and an abundance of wall sconces. They’d been seated at a compact booth by a south facing window. After ordering drinks, Naminé leaned her elbows on the the table and propped her chin up in her hands.

“So then, what’s new in Roxas’s world?” She asked, smiling brightly.

Roxas sat back in the booth and sighed. “So much.” He ran a hand through his hair and stared down at the table, “I can’t keep up. Things had been so uneventful before the past two weeks happened, and now I feel like some pathetic romcom protagonist.”

“You have my attention,” she said, tilting her head.

“Well, first there’s Hayner… but you know all about that.”

“Any updates?”

He chuckled half-heartedly, “no, no. I’m still just terrified that he’ll show up when I least expect it.” Roxas couldn’t help glancing out the window then, scanning the passersby for the curly blonde head that he was all too familiar with.

Naminé joined him in staring out the window, though he doubted for the same reason. “So… how about Axel?” She asked.

“Yeah, Axel.” Roxas sighed, exasperated. “So, we went out last night to Demyx’s show. Demyx is his roommate, and he’s the singer in a punk band—they’re actually really good. Anyways, I was nervous, because you know how I am, so I went and drank too much.”

“Uh oh,” her expression fell.

Roxas shook his head, “and Axel was just being so… flirty all night. He’d just say things and kept winking at me and touching me, but not in a weird way. It was really nice, but I was worried that I might be getting the wrong idea.”

“Oh no, don’t tell me….”

“No, don’t worry. After I drank a bunch, we ended up talking outside, and I…” Roxas laughed out loud and covered his face with his hands. “I asked him if we were _dating_ , because I really had no idea what was going on. He was giving me all these signs, and I had a lot to drink….”

“Oh my god,” Naminé sputtered, holding a hand up to her mouth in an attempt to disguise her amusement.

“I know, I know. So… he panics, because I guess he _did_ think that we were already dating, and I just had no idea because I’m completely oblivious, apparently. We talked about it, we like each other, and it’s all good, but… _fuck._ ”

The waitress arrived with their drinks, and Roxas took this as a cue to remove his face from his hands. They ordered their food, agreeing on a few appetizers to share rather than meals; Naminé had made most of the decisions for them, being the one with the dietary restrictions. Roxas stirred his cocktail which had a name that he’d already forgotten—it was on special, and he felt the need to treat himself to something mixed after his experiences with cheap beer and hard liquor at Monstro.

“Well, at least it worked in your favour this time,” Naminé continued after the waitress had left.

He sipped his drink. It was too sweet and tasted like pineapple, which made Roxas recall the pizza conversation fondly. He grinned, “I guess so. But the worst part was that I tried to kiss him after. The key word being _tried_.”

Naminé shook her head in disbelief, doing her best to hold back a laugh. “And?”

“He was a total fucking gentleman about it,” Roxas groaned, absently chewing on his straw. “He said that he liked me and he didn’t want me to kiss him for the first time when I was drunk because of all the times he’d done that in the past with other people.”

“Woah. That’s… actually quite admirable,” she took a sip of her own drink. “Was he sober?”

“Yeah. He… doesn’t drink anymore. At all.”

Naminé hummed thoughtfully. “Interesting. Do you know why?”

“Vaguely. It has something to do with his mom, which I found out by accident via Demyx. I’m sure Axel’ll tell me about it when he’s ready, though.” He hoped, at least. At this point, they were little more than acquaintances, but Roxas liked to think that he and Axel were on the right track.

“Of course,” she said with a reassuring smile.

“Mhm,” Roxas nodded. “And I haven’t even told you about the latest instalment in my suddenly thrilling life.”

“There’s _more?”_ Naminé grinned eagerly over her straw.

“Yeah,” he sighed. “The barista asked me out.”

“Oh, wow. That has got to be the worst timing… ever. What did you say?”

He stared back out the window, in the direction of where the coffee shop would be, were it not several blocks away. “I was caught off guard, so I think the first thing I said was _uhhh,_ but then I explained that I’ve started seeing someone. He took it very well. His name is Zack, by the way—after all this time, I never got his name.”

Naminé only stared at him with a knowing smile.

“What?” He asked, feeling the intensity of her stare.

“You really like him, don’t you?”

“What, Zack? Well, like I—” he began, shrugging.

“No, I mean Axel. You’ve had a thing for this barista for _months_ , Rox. For you to be able to turn him down so easily, no hard feelings, must mean that you really like Axel.”

She was right, he thought. Had this happened a couple weeks ago, Roxas would have been over the moon about Zack asking him out. He was flattered, no doubt, but he didn’t think much else of it. It was and had always been just a crush, where his relationship with Axel felt like so much more already. Axel made him laugh, was so kind and accommodating and was constantly on Roxas’s mind. He couldn’t wait to see him again. In all honesty, he hadn’t felt this way for someone since Hayner. Roxas stared down at his pineapple infused drink, and smiled.

“Yeah,” he paused thoughtfully. “Yeah, I think I do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys!
> 
> This one was a bit shorter, but I promise the next chapter few chapters after this are going to be lengthy to make up for it. I had some big assignments due the past week, so my schedule was consumed with homework. Things have slowed down a tiny bit now, so I'm hoping to get back to a fairly regular update schedule going forward. We'll see; life is unpredictable.
> 
> Anyways, I hope you enjoyed this short and sweet chapter. The next one is going to be a blast to write, so I'm looking forward to it.
> 
> Thanks for all of the song suggestions last time, guys! I loved listening to everything. Keep it coming whenever you find anything, because I'm such a sucker for stuff like that.
> 
> Chapter name is from the song Friday Night, Saturday Morning by The Specials.


	7. Tiny Dancer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roxas finally has a proper date.

“So you _are_ dating him, right?”

Roxas laughed, pouring coffee into a mug with his free hand. “Yes, I am,” he confirmed.

“Thank fuck. That literally sounds like a nightmare I’ve had before, but like, with a happy ending.” Ventus sighed into the phone.

“Oh yeah?” Coffee mug in hand, he wandered to the living room and collapsed onto the couch. “Do you often have dreams about being rejected by red haired men?”

Ven scoffed, “you know what I mean. Mom clearly didn’t lend any of her intuition when having us—even Prompto was screwed over there… that poor, oblivious soul.” He sighed in pity, “well, I’m glad things have been working out for you lately.”

“Me too,” Roxas smiled. “You won’t believe who asked me out the next day though.”

“Oh my god,” Ventus gasped. “ _Cute barista?”_

Roxas chuckled, still in disbelief. “Ugh, yeah. His name’s Zack. I told him I was seeing someone and he handled it very well.”

“Roxas, what the hell! I don’t talk to you in a week and you’re already breaking hearts!”

“It happened in the span of two days, and here I am telling you now,” Roxas rolled his eyes. He watched the steam rise from his coffee mug as it sat on the table before him, “it really has been a weird week, though.”

“No sign of Hayner yet?”

“No, nothing. I’m hoping that he chickens out of it, honestly.”

Ventus paused, “do you think you’d go back to him? If he wanted that?”

“No. It’s been five years, Ven. People change and shit happens. I’d like to think I have that kind of self control, and I hope Hayner would too after all this time.” Roxas exhaled heavily, “and… I really do have a good feeling about Axel. I don’t know. I hope it’s not just a fluke."

Ventus agreed in a mumble, offering some half-hearted words of optimism. In turn, Roxas forced a topic change and instead asked about the plans for the following weekend. Ventus would drive into Twilight town in the morning, while Aerith was at work, and the twins would catch up and ready the house for the guests. Sora, Prompto and Noctis would be arriving sometime in the late afternoon, and Ven would pick them up from the airport with Roxas while Aerith prepared dinner. Roxas was looking forward to seeing everyone again, but most of all his twin. Ever since Ven had moved out, he felt like a part of Roxas had left with him. Ventus had always been the lively optimist to his apathetic pessimist, and the house felt lonelier without him.

After the call, Roxas busied himself with household chores. He didn’t have to be at Turner’s until six (Axel had told him to come before the show started so they could get settled in) and his anxiety wouldn’t allow him to be anything but productive. He washed dishes, swept the kitchen floor, and even picked out and ironed an outfit hours before he’d have to be ready. At four o’clock, he showered and began his grooming routine—he’d allowed himself plenty of time for the inevitable nervous pacing.

Time passed far quicker than he could ever have prepared for. Mentally, at least. When it was time to leave, he gave himself one last once-over in the bathroom mirror and nodded sternly at his reflection. He’d decided on a mustard yellow sweater over a collared shirt and clean black jeans. It toed the line between casual and dressed up, which was the look he’d been aiming for, considering he had no idea what to expect for the evening. He threw his trusty denim jacket on overtop and double-checked the pockets for his headphones before heading out.

Coincidentally, Turner’s pub happened to be the exact bar that Roxas had seen the other night while coming out of Monstro. A small crowd was already lingering outside, puffing on cigarettes, and Roxas thought it rather endearing to see people his mother’s age still enjoying the night life (albeit a lot tamer than the likes of Monstro). He wondered if Aerith ever felt the desire to go out and enjoy her evenings like this, or if she was too exhausted from her job to even bother. He felt a pang of remorse for his mother’s dwindling social life and promised himself to take her for dinner and drinks sometime soon.

A roar of laughter erupted from the crowd of middle-aged smokers as Roxas approached. He hunched his shoulders and made an attempt walk past them and through the door, but was stopped.

“Roxas!”  


He wondered how he hadn’t noticed him; Axel’s lanky frame towered above the small crowd, and his flaming red hair that was neatly tied back in a bun made him look like a giant matchstick. A handsome matchstick. He was nicely dressed, in an outfit resembling his work attire, but this time accented with a black leather jacket. 

Axel parted the crowd and wrapped an arm around Roxas’s shoulders, guiding him to join the conversation. “Everyone,” Axel announced, “this is Roxas.”

The crowd beamed, and Roxas felt less like he was at a night out and more like he was at a family reunion. The ladies swooned, their red lipstick creasing in the wrinkles around their mouths as they smiled. The gentlemen puffed their cigarettes and nodded at him with uniform sly grins.

“Oh, _Lea_ ,” one of the ladies exclaimed. Her hair was dyed black, save for the prominent grey roots, and she wore what Roxas thought to be an unnecessary number of gaudy necklaces and rings. “He’s _adorable_. You’ve really found yourself a good one this time.”

Roxas immediately blushed and Axel laughed heartily, squeezing Roxas’s shoulder with affection.

“Let’s not scare him away, Claudette. It’s his first time here, so you have to go easy on him,” Axel teased her.

“It’s okay,” Roxas assured. He held out a hand for Claudette, “it’s very nice to meet you.” He figured it would be best to make a solid first impression, on the off chance that these were actually Axel’s relatives. He sincerely hoped that they weren’t, though. Axel wouldn’t seriously do that to him already, right?

Following Claudette’s lead, the other ladies introduced themselves, and then the smoking gentlemen. After shaking hands with everyone, Roxas found himself to be considerably less intimidated than he had been at the start. The group was charming and sweet, and Roxas had learned the appropriate mannerisms required to win over the hearts of middle aged ladies from his time spent working at the flower shop. Axel seemed impressed with the sudden burst of charisma and he smiled down at Roxas.

“Alright, we’re going to go in and say hi to Dem before it starts. See you kids in there,” Axel announced and was met with a chorus of playful jeering from the ladies. With a wave and some kind words, Roxas allowed himself to be led into the pub.

The juxtaposition was laughable when compared with Monstro. Turner’s was an elaborately decorated English pub with an extensive (and very clean) bar attended to by handsome, black-tie clad bartenders. Roxas was thankful that he’d decided on his collared shirt and sweater combination.

Axel led him through the pub, which was considerably packed. Roxas noticed several people scattered among the pub tables that appeared to be about his age, but the majority of the attendance was made up of people averaging around forty and up. He felt very out of place. Businessmen with loosened ties bellowed loudly about finances and prospects; a gaggle of very _mature_ ladies with claw-like manicures eyed the pair of them flirtatiously; sports fans stared at the tv, pints of cloudy stout in hand, and heckled the referees on the screen. Even as they made their way through the bar, Roxas couldn’t help but notice the alarming number of people that seemed to recognize Axel.

In an alcove at the back of the pub, next to an ornate bookshelf, sat Demyx, Zexion, and a red-haired girl that Roxas didn’t recognize. Roxas gawked as he took in the sight of his friend; Demyx’s hair was impeccably styled and his face made up to accentuate his sharp features, but what really caught Roxas’s attention was the seafoam (or was it more of a teal?) _sequin_ blazer. Thankfully, he seemed considerably less drunk than he’d been at Monstro. He mindfully sipped a glass of white wine while entertaining Zexion and the red-haired girl. He was such a hand-talker.

“Roxas!” Demyx cheered. He waved at them to join them at the table. The girl smiled charmingly and Zexion lifted a hand in a half-attempt at a wave.

As they sat, Roxas grinned and scanned Demyx’s attire, “I like your jacket.”

Demyx swooned, “isn’t it great? Axel bought it for me.”

“I bought it as a joke,” Axel clarified. “I didn’t think he’d actually love it as much as he does.”

“How could I not?”

“Yeah, Axel, what’s wrong with sequins?” Roxas grinned at his date.

“I don’t think I’m comfortable with the two of you being friends,” Axel said flatly, but his smile deceived him.

“I’m Ariel, by the way,” the red haired girl piped up in a sing-song voice.

“Ariel’s my kid cousin,” Demyx nudged her.

In response, Ariel playfully punched Demyx in the shoulder. She had a round, childlike face and large eyes. Her hair, unlike Axel’s, appeared to be naturally red and it complimented her pale freckles and blue-green eyes. She was absolutely gorgeous, Roxas thought.

“Nice to meet you,” Roxas smiled.

“Ariel is in the band with Zex n’ me,” Demyx explained. Roxas imagined the likes of Xigbar and Larxene (or whatever their real names were) wouldn’t fare well in this kind of high-class establishment. Zexion, on the other hand, cleaned up nicely; his hair still hung about his face, but it looked as though he’d actually run a comb and some product through it this time.

“Z and I bring the talent,” she teased. “Dem just gets by on his looks.”

“How _dare_ you,” Demyx gasped.

They shared a laugh, and when the waiter came to take their order, Demyx ordered a shot of their “finest” (his words) tequila for him and Roxas. He then promised, after a piercing look from Axel, that he wouldn’t make Roxas drink any more than that for the rest of the night—he just wanted to prove a point about the quality of tequila. Axel ordered his signature tonic and lime, and Roxas a beer. He was quite thrilled to see an extensive craft beer list this time, and chose one to his liking.

Roxas learned that Ariel too was from Atlantica and had gone to the same high school as Demyx and Axel, but she had entered her freshman year when they were seniors. They’d always been close relatives, and after going through what sounded like a tough breakup, she left for Twilight Town with a desire for a change in scenery.

“I know what that’s like,” Roxas mumbled into his beer. The table offered him a round of questioning looks—particularly from Axel. “Ah,” he caught himself and continued dismissively, “I mean like, it’s nice to get away from that—change is always good.”

Axel nodded slowly at him, an unreadable look in his eyes, as Ariel and Demyx continued on with their anecdotes.

They were nearly finished with their drinks (Roxas still wasn’t a tequila fan) when a sharply dressed man approached their table and laid a hand on Axel’s shoulder. He had short, well-groomed blond hair and a goatee.

Axel beamed up at him, “hey Luxord!”

“Hello Lea,” the man responded in a refined English accent. Roxas searched Axel’s expression after hearing the name, but his companion remained composed. Even Demyx didn’t appear to be bothered by the usage of Axel’s real name—he really wanted to learn more about that. “How are you faring?” Luxord asked.

Axel shrugged, “same as ever. Sorry I haven’t been around lately. Work’s been hell.”

“Ah, don’t worry about it. I know you have a lot on your plate. I’m just happy to see you out tonight… and with a friend, I see.”

Roxas introduced himself, determining that was the right thing to do in the moment, and extended his hand for Luxord to shake. This appeared to please the man, and Roxas chalked it up as another win for the night.

“Roxas,” Luxord repeated. “It’s very nice to meet you.” He turned to face Demyx, who was cackling madly about something to Ariel and Zexion. “Demyx, Ienzo, Ariel, I’ve come to collect you.”

“Right, boss!” Demyx finished his glass of wine, and Ariel did the same almost in unison. Ah, familial resemblances. Demyx stood from his seat and grinned at Axel and Roxas, “you two should find a good place to sit before they’re all taken.”

 

 

They’d managed to find a cocktail table to stand at with a good enough view of the stage (if you could even call it that, considering it was only a foot off the ground). On the stage sat a keyboard, two microphone stands, Zexion’s bass and Demyx’s blue electric guitar. Several older ladies within the crowd greeted Axel while they waited—did he know _everyone_ here?

Roxas leaned his elbow on the table, inching closer to Axel, “you sure are popular.”

“You noticed, huh?” Axel said, almost bashfully.

“Are you kidding me? If I didn’t know better, I would’ve suspected you were the pseudo celebrity here, not Demyx.”

Axel chuckled, “yeah. I guess we just have a lot of history here. My mom was a business partner with Luxord, you know? She’s the reason Demyx even has a job performing here.” He averted his gaze suddenly, staring down at the lime in his glass, and Roxas noticed briefly a shimmer in Axel’s eyes. “I’ve known everyone here for a long time, and—and they were all really supportive after she died. I owe these people a lot. And Demyx. They’re all like family, I guess.”

“I… Shit, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring it up, Axel.” Roxas chewed his lip.

“Don’t worry about it. You were going to find out sooner or later, anyways.”

Roxas allowed Axel a moment of composure. He wanted to comfort him, somehow. Roxas timidly slid his hand across the small table and lightly wrapped his fingers around Axel’s wrist. It was a small gesture, but it made Axel smile.

“C’mere,” Axel said and moved his hand to wrap around Roxas’s shoulder and tug him closer. They stood quietly as the room filled up, their sides pressed close together, and in that moment Roxas thought that maybe, just maybe, everything would be alright for him. If fate really was a factor in his life, then maybe cutting his finger in the flower shop that one Friday afternoon was the best thing he’d ever done.

Maybe.

He delighted in the feeling of Axel’s thumb rubbing his shoulder, and the closeness of Axel’s lips, just in his periphery. Were they not in a public place, he just might be able to….

A chorus of cheers erupted from the prominently middle-aged crowd as Demyx, Zexion and Ariel walked onto the stage. Unlike the show at Monstro, the few metres in front of the stage was void of people, tables and chairs—it was a dance floor.

The band arranged themselves and readied their instruments. Demyx, being the showman that he was, introduced the band. Although, it was apparent that _many_ of the show goers were already very familiar with them.

“Good evening, young lovers,” he greeted the crowd, leaning into his microphone stand dramatically. “We’re Space Oddity, if you’re new around here.”

A lady _woo_ -ed loudly from somewhere behind Roxas.

“He sure loves the attention,” Axel mumbled next to Roxas’s ear as Demyx teased the crowd. The _woo_ -ing lady continued to _woo_ excitedly from behind them. She must’ve indulged in a few too many glasses of wine, Roxas concluded.

The lights dimmed, and Ariel began to play a very recognizable tune on her keyboard. In perfect time, Zexion strummed his bass and Demyx began to sing, “ _take a look at my girlfriend. Oh, she’s the only one I got_ —”

Almost immediately, couples from the crowd began to lead one another onto the dance floor. People sang along, the lady from behind them continued to _woo,_ and even Roxas found himself mouthing along to the words that he remembered.

Demyx danced around on stage with his microphone, swaying his hips to the music as his guitar hung from his shoulders. Zexion, much like at the punk show, stood almost perfectly still, though his bass playing was mesmerizing. Ariel, on the other hand, danced and smiled as she played the keyboard and constantly flipped her long red hair over her shoulder.

The dance floor was filling up quickly, and Roxas watched as older couples embraced and laughed together. He couldn’t imagine his parents ever being like this, even when they had been married still. He’d never been particularly close with his father. There was a familial relationship, sure, but they’d never been _friends—_ not like he was with Aerith. He doubted that Aerith and his father had ever really been friends, too.

Roxas glanced at Axel, only to realize the green eyes weren’t staring at the show or the dance floor, but at him. His lips suddenly felt so dry.

“Hey,” Axel said in a quiet voice.

“Hi,” Roxas stared, wetting his lips. The hand on his shoulder was travelling lower down his arm, and he leaned into the touch. The affection was so, so good and Roxas only craved more of the heat from Axel’s hands.

“ _See the girls in California… I’m hoping it’s going to come true, but there’s not a lot I can do_.”

Roxas’s cellphone buzzed from inside his pocket, though he ignored it. Until, of course, it buzzed again. And then a third time. Curiosity got the better of him—what if Aerith needed something?—and he offered an apologetic smile to Axel before taking his phone from his pocket.

It was Ventus, of course:

_Are you on your date?_

_Have you kissed him yet?_

_Say hi to Axel for me (winky face emoji)_

His face heated up and he immediately locked his phone again without responding.

Unfortunately, Axel had been hovering, “tell your friend I say hi, too.”

“It’s rude to read other people’s text messages,” Roxas attempted to glare up at Axel, but he couldn’t resist the smile that broke out.

“Well, I always thought it was rude to text while on a date, so we’re both at fault.”

“Truce?” Roxas put his phone back in his pocket; Ventus could wait.

“Truce.” Axel nodded, “so who was I saying hi to?”

Roxas sighed in defeat, “my brother, Ventus.”

“Is he older?”

Roxas bit his lip, “I mean, I guess… he’s older by thirteen minutes. I have an _actual_ older brother too, though.”

Axel paused, his eyes went wide and his mouth hung open. “Oh my god. You have a _twin?_ Are you identical? I need to see a photo.”

“Please don’t tell me you have a thing for that,” Roxas deadpanned.

Axel laughed loudly. In the background, the band was playing a song that Roxas was only vaguely familiar with. Axel wiped a tear from his eye, “fuck no, I just think it’s fascinating.”

Roxas stared, “fine.” He pulled his phone from his pocket and unlocked it.

“Wait, wait. Tell him I say hi first and that I haven’t kissed you yet.”

Roxas grinned at Axel, his thumb hovering over the keyboard, “yet?”

“You heard me,” Axel teased.

Roxas bit his lip and typed out his response:

_Axel says hi, and the coward hasn’t kissed me yet._

Axel gasped, “wow. You’re never going to get kissed if you keep that up.”

Roxas laughed to himself and opened the photo app, quickly flipping through to find one of him and Ven together. He could feel Axel staring over his shoulder as he searched through the photos, but he didn’t mind. If Axel was looking for anything incriminating or suggestive, he wouldn’t find it in Roxas’s phone.

He found one of him and Ventus from the previous summer. It was the day before Ventus had to leave again, so the twins had Aerith take a photo of them together to commemorate the visit. Ven had his arm around Roxas’s shoulder and the two of them wore matching smiles.

“No shit,” Axel said in disbelief. “You two are actually identical.”

“You might be able to meet him next weekend. He’s coming to town for the Festival. We could all get dinner, or something.”

“I’d like that,” Axel chuckled. “But promise you won’t play any twin tricks on me.”

“We grew out of that years ago, Axel.”

His phone buzzed in his hand, and Roxas looked down at the message preview:

_You guys need to fix that (winky face emoji)_

Axel didn’t say anything this time, but Roxas noticed him smile and avert his gaze from the phone. He pocketed his cell for the night and resumed his former position, pressed against Axel’s side.

The band had ended their song and transitioned into the next, and not even ten seconds into the song, Axel gasped. “Roxas,” he said with desperation. “Let’s go dance.”

“ _What?”_

“I’m going to dance to this song whether you join me or not,” Axel said. “So come with me, or you’ll have to put up with watching some old lady grind up on me.”

“That actually sounds awfully tempting.”

“ _Please_ just come dance. Please? One song?” Axel begged, stepping back and taking Roxas’s hands tightly in his own.

“ _Welcome to your life, there’s no turning back. Even while we sleep, we will find you_ —” Demyx sang from the stage.

Roxas nodded. Green eyes shining, Axel leaned down and lightly kissed Roxas on the cheek before tugging his hands and guiding him to the dance floor. Roxas, completely stunned, could do nothing but follow.

Axel led them into the middle of the crowd and spun around, taking Roxas by the waist and pulling him close. Roxas laughed, dazed by the gesture, and lifted his arms around Axel’s shoulders. He hadn’t danced since… middle school, probably. He, Hayner, Pence and Olette had decided that Prom wasn’t their scene and had skipped the whole thing. Though he and Aerith had done their part in setting up many weddings over the summers, he hadn’t exactly had the opportunity to attend any.

“Axel, I have no idea what I’m doing,” he admitted, red faced.

“None of us do, Roxas.” Axel, with his hands on Roxas’s hips, began to sway in time with the music, forcing Roxas to do the same. Roxas smiled and allowed the encouragement.

They eased into the motions, Axel gradually encouraging Roxas to move his hips and feet. Roxas was stiff and unsure of his footing, but surprisingly, he couldn’t be bothered to care.

“Am I ever going to hear you sing?” Roxas teased after they fell into a rhythm.

“Not here. I’d hate to steal the spotlight from Demyx.”

“ _There’s a room where the light won’t find you. Holding hands while the walls come tumbling down. When they do I’ll be right behind you—”_

As the song picked up, so did Axel’s enthusiasm. He moved his hips wildly and suggestively, his hold on Roxas forcing him to do the same. At one point, he attempted to spin Roxas, but it only resulted in Roxas stumbling into Axel and the two of them laughing as they kept from falling.

Roxas’s face was beginning to hurt from smiling. He never thought he’d find dancing to be fun, but maybe that was because he’d never done it with the right person.

“ _Say that you’ll never, never, never, never need it. One headline, why believe it. Everybody wants to rule the world—”_

Roxas hadn’t thrown caution to the wind—he’d set it aflame and hurled it off a cliff.

As they danced through the outro, Roxas found the courage to press himself against Axel. His partner reciprocated by wrapping his arms around his waist. It wasn’t inappropriate, by any means—they _were_ in a pub full of middle-aged men and women—but Roxas craved the contact. He was feeling bold, electric, like he was on a high. Axel took note of the enthusiasm and grinned wickedly.

The song ended, and Axel pulled away, prepared to lead them back to their table. “Thanks for obliging me.”

“Wait,” Roxas said, grabbing Axel’s wrist. “Can we keep dancing?”

Axel’s hands returned to Roxas’s waist, “there’s nothing I’d love more.”

 

 

Roxas had no idea how many songs they’d danced to; he only knew that he wanted to keep going. During Demyx’s particularly heartfelt rendition of Moonage Daydream, the pair had been split up when Claudette and her friends had moved in to join them. Roxas danced with Claudette—who was a frighteningly good dancer—and watched as Axel spun and dipped one of her friends next to them. The ladies left to get some wine after the song ended, laughing and praising the boys lovingly.

“Thank you all for coming out tonight,” Demyx announced from the stage after several songs. “We have one more for you. But first, a big round of applause for the talented, beautiful Ariel.” He gestured to his cousin, who curtsied and waved. The crowd whooped and applauded for her. “And my wonderful bassist and long time friend, Ienzo.”

Zexion bowed, cradling his bass against his chest. To Roxas’s surprise, the pair then left the stage and went to the bar. Demyx lifted his guitar and settled it into a stand, then positioned himself in front of Ariel’s keyboard. After a moment of silence, he began to play, and Roxas smiled warmly at the stage.

Of course Demyx would close with Tiny Dancer, of all songs.

“So,” Axel said, his hands had made their way further around Roxas’s waist to settle on his lower back. “When was the last time you slow danced?”

“Not since middle school, probably—I can’t even remember who I danced with. And I skipped prom with my friends,” he shrugged. “I guess I’ve just never had many opportunities.”

“Really? No high school girlfriends?”

Roxas shook his head, “Axel, I don’t know if you’ve noticed… but I’m gay.”

Axel snorted in laughter, “shut up. I mean, we were all confused teenagers at one point in our lives. I had loads of girlfriends.”

“I bet you did,” Roxas rolled his eyes. “Nah, I realized that I was gay pretty early in my life, I guess.”

“How old were you?”

“Thirteen.”

“Huh,” Axel pondered. “You were an early bloomer. How did your parents take it?”

Roxas didn’t respond—he stared down at Axel’s chest as they danced.

“They don’t know, do they?” Axel said quietly in realization.

“No,” Roxas let his forehead fall onto Axel’s chest. “They divorced five years ago, and I’m not close with my dad. I just—I’ve put it off for so long that I’m scared to tell my mom now.”

“ _Hold me closer, tiny dancer. Count the headlights on the highway. Lay me down in sheets of linen, you had a busy day today—”_ Demyx sang. He truly did have a beautiful voice, when he committed to it.

“Is she—do you think she’d be upset?” Axel asked. His hands moved up Roxas’s back, gently smoothing down his shirt.

Roxas half-groaned, half-laughed, “I don’t think so. She’s one of the kindest people I know. I just… I don’t know. I feel like all I’ve ever been is a disappointment to her, compared to my brothers.”

“ _Woah._ Woah, woah, woah.” Axel pulled back, taking Roxas by the shoulders and staring directly into his eyes. “None of that, okay? The last thing you are is a disappointment, Roxas. I won’t make you do anything you’re uncomfortable with, but if you need me to be there when you tell her, I will be. And I think you should. It’ll only get harder and harder to hide.”

Roxas smiled pitifully, “I know. Just… let’s just worry about that later.”

“ _Only you and you can hear me when I say softly, slowly—”_

“Deal,” Axel agreed.

 

 

They waited outside to cool down while Demyx and the others packed up their instruments for the night. Claudette and her friends stood with them, smoking their thin cigarettes, as Axel told them about how he and Roxas had met. Roxas enjoyed hearing the story from Axel’s point of view; he made Roxas sound far less pathetic than he had felt at the time.

“Ah, so _that’s_ where I’ve seen you before,” one of the ladies said, gesturing to him by pointing her cigarette. “I love the flowers at Gainsborough’s. Is Aerith your mother then?”

Roxas paused, and then nodded slowly. “Yes, she is.”

He hadn’t even considered that customers, let alone people that _knew_ Aerith, would be out at the pub tonight. They’d seen him dancing with Axel, and not in a friendly, platonic way. There would be no misunderstanding of what was going on between them. The last thing Roxas wanted was for his mother to discover his sexuality via a customer’s passing comment.

Shit.

“I am so _exhausted_ ,” Demyx’s voice echoed through the crowd as he and his companions exited the pub. “Axe, why did you let me stay up watching Netflix all night?”

“Because I’m a _cool_ babysitter,” Axel threw up a peace sign and Demyx groaned.

“Whatever, let’s go home,” Demyx whined.

Axel turned to Roxas, “do you need a ride home?”

“Ah,” Roxas shrugged. “I was going to walk home. It’s still early enough and I don’t live too far away.”

“Let me walk you,” Axel offered. Before Roxas could protest, he said to Demyx, “I’ll meet you at home, Dem. I’m going to walk Roxas to his place.”

“Ooh,” Demyx wiggled his shoulders suggestively, “let me know if you’re not coming home.”

Ariel smacked him across the back of his head, “leave them alone, Dem. It was nice meeting you, Roxas!”

“You too, Ariel! Have a good night, guys.”

They said their goodbyes to Claudette and friends, but not without Roxas receiving some smeared lipstick stains on his cheek first. He wiped at his face with his sleeve as they walked in the direction of his home.

“Why’s it so _sticky?_ ” He groaned, “is it off my face yet?”

Axel laughed, “just wash your face when you get home.”

“Yeah,” he sighed, his hand dropping to his side. “Thanks for walking me home, Axel. You didn’t have to do this.”

“Nope, but I wanted to.”

It was quiet as they walked through the residential areas of Twilight Town. Roxas stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jacket and listened to their footsteps in the quiet of the evening.

“I had a lot of fun tonight,” he said after a moment.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I didn’t think I’d actually enjoy dancing as much as I did,” Roxas admitted.

“Well, I’m happy to go whenever you want to. I, for one, _love_ dancing.”

Roxas laughed, remembering how good it felt to be dancing with Axel—so close and warm. “I’d like that.”

Axel hummed in agreement. Then, he stepped closer to Roxas and grabbed him by the waist. They stepped in time, through the quiet streets, illuminated only by the street-lamps.

“ _Welcome to your life, there’s no turning back_ …” Roxas sang quietly, his only intention being to provoke Axel.

Axel chuckled and shook his head, taking the bait. He sang along, “ _even while we sleep, we will find you_ —”

“ _Acting on your best behaviour, turn your back on mother nature. Everybody wants to rule the world_ ,” they sang in unison, growing louder as the song progressed. Roxas didn’t know all of the words, but Axel did—he belted out the lyrics like he’d been waiting all night to do so. Roxas joined in the parts that he knew, but mostly he just enjoyed listening to Axel.

Their laughter filled the quiet street as they approached Roxas’s home. He could see the kitchen light was on inside, so he prompted Axel to stop where they were, only a couple houses away.

“Wait,” Roxas said.

Then, it was as if they were under the mutual influence of a higher power, or fate, magnetism—whatever it may be. Roxas wrapped his fingers around Axel’s sleeves and tilted his head up in the same moment that Axel leaned down, trapping Roxas with a hand to the back of his neck. Roxas chuckled quietly at their synchronicity but was silenced by warm lips pressing against his own and fingers curling through his hair.

He kissed back, tightening his grip on Axel’s leather jacket, and pulled him closer with a fierceness that hadn’t been present until now. Axel grinned against his lips, and Roxas took the opportunity to deepen the kiss. The hand in his hair tugged gently, and Roxas tilted his head, his breath catching in his throat.

Axel pulled away slowly, his hand still threaded in Roxas’s hair, “I’ve been wanting to do that for a while.”

“Y-yeah,” Roxas gasped. “Me too.”

Axel kissed him again, soft and brief, before they separated. “When can I see you again?”

“Soon, I hope. Come visit me at work,” Roxas pleaded, with no concern over whether or not he sounded too desperate.

Axel laughed, “deal. Have a good night, Roxas.”

Roxas wanted more—so much more—but this wasn’t the place for it. The light from inside his house taunted him; Aerith would be inside, reviewing her notes for the week, oblivious to what was happening only footsteps away from her home.

Instead, he grabbed Axel by the collar and pulled him down to plant one last, firm kiss on his lips. “Good night, Axel.”

As he’d suspected, Aerith was in the kitchen with a pile of notes and a near empty glass of wine when Roxas entered. She greeted him without looking up as he hung up his jacket and made his best attempt at flattening the back of his hair, where only moments ago Axel had been tugging at.

He poured himself a half glass of wine and sat down to join her, and only then did she look up from her work.

“How was the pu—” she paused, narrowing her eyes at Roxas. His heart pounded in his chest—was it that obvious? The corners of her mouth curled up into a grin, “do you have lipstick on your face?”

Lipstick?

Oh. _Oh._

He couldn’t help but laugh, “Axel introduced me to some of his friends, who happened to be a bunch of middle-aged women—it’s, uh, it’s a long story.” He then drank nearly half of the wine he’d poured for himself in one go.

“Ah,” Aerith nodded, but said nothing more about the matter.

Roxas made another attempt at wiping away the lipstick with his sleeve. Aerith eyed him with a look of suspicion and amusement before returning to her notes. “Xion is a good worker, by the way,” she said.

Roxas sighed, thankful for the diversion. “That’s awesome—I’m looking forward to meeting her.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A most heartfelt apology to Assfruit, whose nap I interrupted because I needed her to beta this chapter for me. Demyx is dedicated to you, as always. But you knew that already.
> 
> And such a BIG thank you to AutumnPlants for making a beautiful graphic for the fic! Go check it out in the first chapter! Go, go, go!
> 
> Sorry for the delayed update, guys! I had one hell of a midterm season, but I was really glad to finally get this chapter written.
> 
> The songs referenced in this chapter are:  
> Breakfast in America by Supertramp  
> Everybody Wants to Rule the World by Tears for Fears (one of the greatest songs ever written)  
> Moonage Daydream by David Bowie  
> Tiny Dancer by Elton John
> 
> I hope you enjoyed it.


	8. Boys Don't Cry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roxas learns of Axel's past and realizes there's no use dwelling on the past when there's so much more to look forward to.

Aerith had been right about Xion—she was a remarkably talented florist. Her taste for colours and composition could even rival Naminé’s, Roxas considered. Arguably, the two didn’t specialize in the same medium, but he was sure they’d have an appreciation for each other’s talents, regardless. He’d have to introduce them at some point.

That is… if Xion ever actually warmed up to him.

Aerith had spoken highly of Xion’s talent and work ethic, and Roxas was admittedly looking forward to working with her during the week. What he _hadn’t_ been warned of, though, was Xion’s uncomfortable silences and her habit of responding to all of his questions with one word answers. She’d been fine the previous day, on Thursday, when Aerith had been there for the training shift. Xion had asked questions, offered Aerith help throughout her shift, and Roxas even discovered that she was a tea drinker, rather than a coffee drinker. She hadn’t spoken much to Roxas directly, but he figured they could bond when Aerith left them alone the following shift for errands and deliveries.

But that was unfortunately much easier said than done. Aerith had left at noon that Friday, giving Roxas a brief hug and insisting that he do his best to help Xion and answer any questions that she might have. He assured her that they’d be fine and he was looking forward to getting to know Xion better. Pleased, Aerith left for the day, beaming with pride for her son.

That was three hours ago, and Xion had said maybe four words since Aerith had left: “yes,” “no,” “okay,” and “nothing,” after Roxas had mistaken her cough for a comment.

He tried—he really did—but she just didn’t seem keen on becoming his friend. Regretfully, he knew Aerith would take the news as him being “standoffish” and “not giving Xion a proper chance.”

The task for their shift was to finish several wedding arrangements that were to be sent out the next day, on Saturday. They were the typical topiary style arrangements, to be placed on gaudy, crystal candelabras. A cloud of fluffy white hydrangea, blush and white garden roses, lisianthus, cymbidium orchids and seeded eucalyptus. He watched from the corner of his eye as Xion assembled arrangements with speed and precision. They looked… significantly better than his own.

He cleared his throat, having grown tired of the repetitive sound of shears cutting stems, “so… how long have you been working as a florist?”

“Hm?” She looked up at him, as if stunned by the outburst. “Um, about three years. On and off.”

That was six more words than he’d gotten before.

“You seem to be a natural at it,” Roxas added. He hoped the compliment would help her ease into talking to him, realizing fully that it might be wishful thinking.

“Thanks,” she said quietly before returning to her work.

Roxas rolled his eyes; his plan had backfired.

Defeated, he instead allowed himself the time to daydream about his week. The night at Turner’s had been incredible, and even that was an understatement. He’d gone to bed that night thinking of Axel’s lips on his—the bitter taste of tonic and lime—and the feeling of Axel’s long fingers tangled in his hair.

As promised, Axel had visited him at the end of his Tuesday shift and they’d gone for a walk together. Through quiet neighbourhoods and parks, Roxas animatedly complained about the chaos that was the floral industry. Axel had walked him home again, but not without stopping mid-way through a quiet park to discreetly make out against a tree. Axel had him pinned, the tree blocking the view of any curious passersby, and kissed him with a longing intensity. They’d whispered in between kisses how much they’d been looking forward to it—how much they’d 

been thinking about each other. The kisses trailed lower, down to his neck and collarbone, while one hand slid up beneath his shirt and the other held firm the back of his neck. Roxas had gasped, pushing against the warm touch, and—

“Are you okay?” A quiet voice asked.

_Right_. He was at work.

“Uh, yeah,” he said, immediately and irreversibly flustered.

“You’ve just been standing there, staring at that hydrangea in your hand,” Xion put her own shears down on the table. “Do you need a break?”

“Y-yeah, maybe. I just spaced out a bit.” He placed the hydrangea back into the bucket next to him and dropped his shears onto the table. “Do you want a tea or anything?”

“No, thanks.”

It was barely there, but Roxas could see the curve of a small smile on Xion’s lips.

“I’ll just go for a break after you,” she insisted.

Roxas had his jacket on and was exiting the shop in a matter of minutes. He’d needed an escape after Xion had caught him daydreaming; he didn’t even want to think about what his dazed expression might’ve looked like. Had he been blushing? He needed to refresh, grab some coffee, and wind down.

But coffee meant facing Zack, who he’d recently rejected. He couldn’t do that—not today, not yet. He was still feeling so awkward and guilty about the whole ordeal and he couldn’t bring himself to return to the cafe.

He considered the alternatives. The only other shop within a close walking distance was one of those massive chains with less than mediocre coffee. That, and a smoothie shop, but he wasn’t in the mood for that. So his only options were to get a shitty coffee from a coffee franchise that he openly shamed, suck it up and face Zack, or just… go for a walk.

He settled for the latter.

This way, walking alone through downtown Twilight Town, at least he could resume his daydream. He smiled to himself as he recalled Axel’s touch on his skin and the feverish kisses to his neck, collar, face and lips. They hadn’t pressed any further than the kissing and light touches, but Roxas had been okay with that. He was okay with anything, really, so long as it was with Axel. He smiled to himself and savoured his short period of uninterrupted reminiscing.

Back at the shop, Xion had made significant progress on her topiary arrangements. There were only three left to make, which wouldn’t take too long with their combined skills. Roxas hung up his coat in the back and insisted that Xion take her break as well. She nodded, the faint trace of a smile still lingering, and left him alone in the shop.

He resumed working on the arrangement that he had abandoned before his break, doing his best to replicate the perfect size and shape of Xion’s—how did she make them so perfectly round? He absently clipped stems and shoved them into the floral foam.

The door chimed as someone entered. Roxas half expected it to be Xion, returning early from her break, but was instead _very_ pleasantly surprised to see Axel looking sharp (as usual) in his work attire. 

“Hey, you.” Axel grinned as he approached the counter.

Roxas discarded the flowers and shears that he’d been holding and wiped his hands down on the nearest towel. “I was starting to worry that you wouldn’t stop by today,” he walked around the counter to stand face to face with Axel.

“Are you kidding? This is the highlight of my day,” Axel said in a low growl and caught Roxas by the waist, pulling him close.

Roxas laughed and gently pushed away against Axel’s chest, “I’m working, you know.”

“Yeah, _alone_ , right?”

“I… well, for now.” Roxas shrugged. He cautiously peered over Axel’s shoulder, to the shop’s windowed storefront. No one appeared to be staring at them from outside.

“So, how’s the part-timer?”

Roxas sighed, “she’s… okay. She’s talented, but doesn’t seem to want to talk to me. Like, at all.”

Axel hummed, running a hand up and down Roxas’s side. “Maybe she has a crush on you, so she’s being awkward about it.”

“I _highly_ doubt that, Axel.”

“You don’t give yourself enough credit.” He attempted to pull Roxas closer, into more of an embrace, but Roxas flushed and laughed, pushing away against his chest again. Axel released him with an exaggerated sigh, “fine, fine. We’ll be professional.”

“Thank you.”

Grinning, Axel said, “anyways, I wanted to ask if you’d like to come over for dinner tonight. Demyx will be there, of course, but I thought it would be fun to do something casual. I’ll get some sea salt ice cream from Scrooge’s, there’s a great view of the city and an accessible rooftop… what do you say?”

“Yes. Definitely, yes. I could really use a night like that.”

“You stressed or something?”

Roxas made a noise of indifference and shrugged, but his train of thought was derailed by the sound of the door chiming and Xion returning from her break. She quietly walked into the store and past them, barely sparing the two of them a glance. Roxas nodded to Axel, as if to imply “ _that’s her,”_ but it must’ve been made clear when she went beyond counters and disappeared into the back room.

Axel smirked down at Roxas, “so, should I expect to see you later then?”

“Yeah,” Roxas exhaled.

Before Roxas could argue, and even before he could process what was happening, Axel swiftly leaned down and stole a kiss. Stunned by the action, Roxas didn’t even think to push Axel away before it was too late.

“Oh, s-sorry,” came a yelp from behind Roxas.

He spun around to see Xion covering her eyes with her hands, and he immediately went pale.

“Hey, you must be the new florist. I’m Axel,” Axel said with an aura of confidence, his hand now resting comfortably on Roxas’s back.

Xion removed her hands from her face and looked between the two of them, more embarrassed than shocked. “I’m Xion. I-I’m sorry for interrupting.”

“Don’t worry about it! I was just saying goodbye,” to emphasize this, Axel pulled Roxas closer and planted a firm kiss on the top of his head.

Roxas could’ve killed him in that moment, if he really wanted to. Fortunately for Axel, the pros of keeping him around vastly outweighed the cons. Although that didn’t save Axel from receiving an intense stare, void of any amusement.

“It was nice meeting you, Xion,” Axel waved and released Roxas from his hold. “See you later, Rox.”

Roxas couldn’t decide if Axel was secretly evil or if this was just his means of throwing Roxas into the deep end for his own wellbeing. Whatever it may be, he wouldn’t be getting off the hook easily. Roxas watched as Axel exited the shop before turning back to Xion.

She stared, blushing.

“Hey, Xion,” he paused and then inhaled sharply, rubbing at the back of his neck. “Please don’t tell Aerith about that.”

“Oh,” her shoulders relaxed and her expression fell into one far more sombre. “You too, huh?”

 

 

It hadn’t been long after Axel had outed him in front of Xion that his coworker began to truly warm up to Roxas. He learned, through exposition, that Xion too was gay and in the closet. Her family was unfortunately far less open-minded than Aerith in that regard, but beneath her quiet exterior, Xion appeared to remain strong. They discussed their experiences, and Roxas learned that Xion had realized her sexuality after developing an unrequited crush on one of her female classmates in high school. Roxas, feeling a new sense of camaraderie with Xion over their similar struggles, even shared with her his stories about Tidus, Hayner, Axel and why he hadn’t come out to Aerith yet.

Toward the end of their shifts, it was like they’d been friends for years.

Aerith had been right in saying that she’d reminded her of Roxas. It was uncanny, really, but it felt so good opening up to someone about his life without fearing repercussions or shame. Maybe that was a part of why Aerith had decided to hire Xion in the first place. Maybe she just knew that they’d click (after some persistence, on Roxas’s part).

Roxas was truly, genuinely looking forward to working with Xion again the following Thursday. He even offered, if she was interested, that she join him and his friends for a night at the Dandelion Festival the following weekend, which she tentatively agreed to.

Before locking up for the night, Roxas tied together a small bouquet to bring to Axel and Demyx’s place. It wasn’t showy or romantic—at least, that’s what he convinced himself—it was just meant to be a kind gesture for having him over. He’d settled on some bright, waxy tropicals: ginger, bird of paradise and anthurium tied together with artistically looped bear grass and a broad monstera leaf, all wrapped in brown craft paper.

Axel had buzzed him up to their apartment upon arrival, and in the elevator to the tenth floor, Roxas nervously shifted his weight as he contemplated whether or not flowers were a good idea after all. Was it tacky? Old fashioned? Too forward? But there was no turning back.

He took a deep breath in through his nose, knocked on the apartment door, and exhaled steadily. Seconds later, the door swung open and Demyx was standing there, beaming at him with a childish grin.

“Are those for _me?”_ Demyx asked, grasping at his chest dramatically.

Roxas smirked, his worries dissolving, “you have to share.”

Demyx stepped aside and welcomed Roxas inside to the smell of curry and the familiar chorus of _The Lovecats_ playing from the record player. Axel looked up from where he was chopping vegetables in the kitchen—his work attire exchanged with something far more casual.

“Hey,” Axel greeted warmly, setting down his knife. 

“Look, Roxas brought me flowers!” Demyx swooned, taking the bouquet from Roxas so he could remove his jacket and shoes. “This one even looks like you, Axe,” he pointed to the tall, red ginger flower before retreating into the kitchen to, presumably, find a vase.

Axel laughed, striding past Demyx and over to Roxas for a kiss, though his attempt was halted by Roxas playfully—and _gently_ —punching Axel in the stomach.

Axel recoiled, clutching his stomach, “what was that for?”

“For outing me in front of Xion, you jerk.” Roxas grinned devilishly.

“Okay, I guess I deserve that. How’d she take it?”

“I discovered that she’s a lesbian, and she’s also in the closet, so…”

“Oh,” Axel beamed, “so you’re saying that I actually _helped_ you two to bond then? Isn’t that right?”

“That’s one way of looking at it,” Roxas murmured. He tilted his chin upwards, silencing Axel by capturing the back of his neck with one hand and pulling him down for a kiss.

Axel hummed, wrapping his arms around Roxas’s waist. “That’s better,” he sighed as they parted.

“Hey, do we even _own_ a vase?” Demyx asked from the kitchen. The clattering of plastic and glass could be heard as he scavenged the cupboards.

“Check above the stove, I should have something there,” Axel released Roxas from his hold. “Come, sit. I won’t take long to finish cooking—I hope you’re hungry.” He nudged Roxas towards the bar stools.

Roxas sat, settling down in front of where Axel was cutting his vegetables. Next to him, on the counter propped against the wall, was Freddie the flytrap looking healthy and happy. Roxas smiled to himself—that damn flytrap was the reason for all of this. It was the one reason Axel had come in that day to find Roxas in his state of distress. If it weren’t for that flytrap, maybe they never would’ve met—only missing each other on their way to work, too caught up in the buzz of downtown.

Demyx, successful in his hunt for a vase, was filling a clear glass vessel full of water. He unwrapped the bouquet carefully, as though he’d damage the flowers if he wasn’t, and stared utterly perplexed at the hand tied bouquet that lay in front of him.

“Now what?” He asked.

Roxas chuckled, “it’s tied, so you can just put it in the vase like that.”

“Do I… have to do anything to them? Cut them? Give them sugar? Say a prayer to the flower gods?” Demyx lifted the bouquet skeptically before inserting it into the vase. It stood a little tall in the vase, making it tip over slightly to the side, but Roxas didn’t want to trouble Demyx any more.

“These are so awesome,” Demyx set the vase in the middle of the kitchen bar table. “You need a drink, Roxas? I’m going to have a glass of wine.”

Roxas looked up apologetically at Axel; he was never sure if he should refrain from drinking out of solidarity or if Axel truly didn’t mind at all. Axel gave him a kind “ _go ahead”_ look, and Roxas smiled. “I’d love some,” he replied.

The three casually conversed while Axel finished preparing their dinner—red curry with vegetables, coconut rice and naan. Over dinner, Roxas listened as Demyx and Axel recalled high school memories and how they’d met.

“So,” Demyx said in between bites, “these guys just _wouldn’t_ leave me alone—real bullies, you know? They drag me into the bathroom to beat the shit out of me, but them Axel comes in. Axel already has a reputation at our school for being that delinquent metalhead who likes to set things on fire. Like, everyone was terrified of him. So, he comes in, Axel, and is all like _‘what the fuck do you think you’re doing?’_ And I’m like ‘ _hah, suckers’_ because the bullies were scared shitless. So, Axel has always been freakishly tall, even in high school, so he’s just towering over these kids with fuckin’ fire in his eyes. He grabs one of them by the collar and lifts him up—it’s so great—and the other guy tries to punch Axel but he’s too quick and blocks it. He gets right in this dude’s face and gives him shit for being a bully and a lowlife and says that if he catches them with me again then he’ll beat the shit out of them. So, they just drop me and run out of there like their lives depended on it… and they did, I guess”

“Why were they bullying you?” Roxas asked. He glanced at Axel, who was spectating with an amused smirk.

“Who knows? Teens are stupid, and the bullies are the worst. I was that dumb music nerd—”

“Hey, remember what I said?” Axel interrupted sternly.

“Sorry, not _dumb_ , but I had—have—a learning disability so kids always thought I was dumb. Hell, I just assumed I was dumb too. Anyways, I was a band nerd that struggled with math and had trouble focusing on anything besides music, so I was an easy target. Uh, where was I?”

“Axel scared them away,” Roxas grinned.

“Yes! Man, he was so scary back then. So Axel helps me out, asks if I’m okay and then just… leaves, like nothing ever happened. I was so grateful, and also I just thought he was so cool and if he was a metalhead then maybe he played an instrument and we could hang out, so I stalked him.”

Roxas choked on his wine, “you _stalked_ him?”

“Not in a creepy way! I just followed him home, because I wanted to know where he lived.”

“Dem, I’m sorry, but that has so much creep potential,” Axel chuckled.

“Whatever! Can a guy not appreciate another guy for his random acts of kindness? Anyways, so I find out where he lives, but I don’t want to make it weird so I plan to wait a day before I go and thank him. But then he isn’t at school the next day, so I’m like ‘ _what the hell?’_ I found out he’s been suspended, as well as the guys that were bullying me. I couldn’t believe he went and got suspended for _me_ , right? It was so cool. So I visit his house after school and his mom lets me in and she’s this absolute sweetheart and she knows who I am because Axel already told her. I end up staying for dinner, and I see the way Axel interacts with his mom and I find out that he’s actually just a big softie under all that black denim and long hair and… yeah, I guess we just became friends.”

“Because you kept visiting me over and over,” Axel deadpanned.

“Hey, you could’ve kicked me out, but you never did.”

“I felt bad for you.”

Demyx shrugged, “well, it worked in my favour.”

Roxas smiled to himself, absently mixing his curry and rice while Axel and Demyx bickered. He couldn’t begin to fathom how lucky he was to have been welcomed into their lives. Not only two weeks ago, Roxas had considered Naminé to be his closest and only friend, and the concept of a romantic relationship with _anyone_ seemed more unfathomable than him trying to perform a jewel heist. Yet here he was, sharing stories with two men he’d only recently met, and he felt prepared to spend his life in their company—although, he’d never dare admit that so soon.

After their meal, Roxas helped to clean up the mess. Demyx was in charge of doing dishes, which was a long-standing deal that had been established because Axel did all of the cooking for them.

“Do you guys want to play some video games?” Demyx asked, drying the last of the pots.

“Maybe later,” Axel said, pouring the remainder of the wine into Roxas’s glass and setting the empty bottle aside for recycling. “I want to take Roxas to the rooftop first.”

“How _romantic_ ,” Demyx swooned.

“Aw, don’t be jealous, Dem.”

“ _Jealous?_ ” Demyx laughed, “I’ll be too busy saving Hyrule to be jealous.”

 

 

The rooftop of their apartment served as an outdoor hangout spot for the apartment residents, complete with couches, a communal barbecue, a shared vegetable garden and an outdoor fireplace. White holiday lights decorated the elevator and rooftop perimeter—a concrete wall, almost four and a half feet tall and a foot wide. Beyond the wall, from almost every direction, the whole of Twilight Town could be seen.

“Woah,” Roxas gawked, leaning over the edge of the wall and gazing down at the town. On the horizon, the sun was setting, casting an orange hue.

“Cool, huh?” Axel approached him from behind.

“Yeah—Oh, check it out! I can see the shop!” Roxas pointed, but was interrupted by Axel pushing himself up onto the concrete barrier and swinging his legs over to dangle off the edge of the building. “What… are you doing?” Roxas asked cautiously.

Axel patted the space next to him, “come sit! Unless you’re afraid of heights?”

Roxas smirked and climbed up onto the wall with less grace than Axel and his long legs had, but Axel was kind enough to not belittle him for it.

Once they were comfortably seated, staring down at the traffic below, Axel pulled two wrapped popsicles from his coat pocket, “here.”

“Is this sea salt ice cream?” Roxas took the treat and unwrapped it.

“Yeah,” Axel leaned in close to whisper, “but don’t tell Demyx—these were the last two.”

Roxas chuckled, admiring the turquoise coloured ice cream, “he’s a good guy.”

“He really is…” Axel sighed, “honestly, I don’t know where I’d be if it weren’t for him.”

Axel opened his mouth again to speak, but then chewed his lip in thought. Roxas remained quiet, allowing Axel time to gather his thoughts, and tasted the popsicle—salty, but sweet? It wasn’t too bad, but definitely an acquired taste.

Axel fiddled with his own ice cream wrapper, “he took me in after my mom died. He just made it out to be the obvious thing to do, like he’d been ready for it.” He made a half-hearted noise that was somewhere between a laugh and a sigh, “he even gave me the nickname Axel, because everyone in his band had pseudonyms and he wanted me to feel like I was a part of something. He had this whole speech about how Lea was my old self and Axel was my future, or whatever—he was pretty drunk at the time. At first, I thought it was stupid… but it actually stuck, and in a way it helped me cope with moving on.”

“How long ago was it? I mean, when she….”

“Just over a year ago, and I’ve been living with Dem ever since,” Axel unwrapped his popsicle and took a bite off the top, making Roxas cringe a little. Axel continued, “she was diagnosed with early onset dementia when I was… twenty-five? It started with little things, like forgetting words, taking wrong turns… but we just wrote it off as stress, because she’d been working a lot at the time. But then things gradually escalated, and I got suspicious. It would be weird things, like I’d find her car keys in the freezer, or she’d forget common words like ‘fork’, and it got me wondering if there was more than stress getting to her. I did some research and had a talk with her, and we agreed to see a specialist. She was diagnosed shortly after."

“That’s… why you fear memory loss,” Roxas said in quiet realization.

“Yeah. We made a pact to tough it out and I tried helping her with mental exercises and did everything I could to take care of her. She was so strong throughout it,” the corners of Axel’s mouth pulled upwards in a small, sad smile. “For a while, it was okay. Her symptoms were minor and she was seeing doctors regularly.”

Axel bit his popsicle again, and Roxas watched with mild fascination—was he not phased by the cold? That was besides the point. Roxas shuffled closer, enough so that their arms could touch, and he could lean his head on Axel’s shoulder.

“And then things just escalated,” Axel reciprocated the gesture, leaning his head on top of Roxas’s. “She’d get lost on her way home from places, even after travelling the route many times, and eventually she just… at times, she’d look at me like I was a total stranger. It’s why I started dyeing my hair, you know? I thought, hey, if random people on the street can remember me as the guy with firetruck red hair, then why can’t she? Sometimes it worked, but…” he flexed his fist, as if trying to grasp at something that wasn’t there. 

“Axel…” Roxas chewed his lip, torn between attempting to console Axel or to just let him continue. He watched as a melted drop of ice cream fell from Axel’s popsicle and onto his thumb—Axel paid it no mind, too consumed in his thoughts.

“It was the scariest thing,” Axel muttered. “You know, there’s a lot of terrifying shit in the world, but there’s nothing worse than being forgotten by the most important person in your life.”

Roxas held his breath, his eyes trained on the city below, watching the shadows grow longer as the sun set. Nothing he could say would undo the hurt that Axel had felt, or the hopelessness of watching as his mother’s mental state deteriorated. Instead, he slid his hand over Axel’s clenched fist and squeezed.

Axel chuckled quietly and turned his head to press his lips into Roxas’s hair, “I’m sorry for being a downer. I promise I brought you up here with the intentions of being romantic.”

Roxas pressed closed, “thank you for telling me, Axel.”

“I thought you ought to know,” Axel lifted his head and turned his attention back to his ice cream, which had continued to drip onto his hand. He licked the drops off his thumb, “you know, if we’re going to continue this whole dating thing.”

Roxas smiled fondly, moving to allow Axel to eat his popsicle (and simultaneously so that he could enjoy his own), “I’d like to.”

“Yeah… me too.”

They fell silent, though it wasn’t out of awkwardness or grief; Roxas knew that further condolences would do no good at this point. All he could do, moving forward from now, was be there to support Axel when he needed it. As he’d learned, there was no use in dwelling on past hardships. At least, it had never done him any favours. Roxas licked his ice cream thoughtfully while Axel bit down on his own with no apparent sense of discomfort—it was impressive, really.

“How is it?”

“Hm?”

Axel grinned, holding the bare stick of his popsicle between his teeth, “the ice cream. Do you like it?”

Roxas tasted it again, tentatively, “yeah! It’s… It’s weird, but good. Salty, but sweet, and not in the same way that kettle corn is.”

Axel watched him quietly, a warm smile lighting his face. Feeling the eyes on him, Roxas turned and grinned.

“What?”

“Nothing,” Axel mumbled. “You’re just cute.”

Roxas chewed his lip. Glancing between his ice cream and Axel’s lingering stare, he opened his mouth to stumble over a response, but was interrupted by the touch of Axel’s cold fingers on his chin. Axel leaned over slightly, careful to not compromise their precarious seating on the wall, and kissed Roxas.

His lips were cold and tasted of the ice cream. Roxas immediately settled into it and sighed, pressing closer.

At this rate, he could really learn to love the taste of sea salt.

 

 

“Are you _kidding me_?” Upon opening the apartment door, Roxas and Axel were greeted by the frustrated cries of Demyx and the very distinguishable scent of weed. “Fucking water temple, you soggy piece of….”

“Dem, what did I say about smoking in the apartment?” Axel said, resigned.

“I—fuck,” Demyx slouched forward from his position on the couch, inching closer to the television as he fought back a swarm of enemies in his game. “I blew it out the window! I even lit a candle after, can’t you tell?"

“I just smell weed,” Axel kicked his shoes off and hung his jacket.

At this point, Roxas wasn’t sure if he was overstaying his welcome or not. Axel hadn’t clarified whether he wanted him to stay late, or if this would be… an overnight thing? Roxas stared down at his shoes, unsure if he should be making himself comfortable or wait for Axel’s cue for him to leave.

“It’ll be fiiiine. They love me here—Agh!” Demyx threw his head back against the couch. On the television, the ever daunting “Game Over” screen appeared.

Axel looked Roxas over, who hadn’t yet removed his coat or shoes, and tilted his head inquisitively, “do you need to head home, or something?”

“Uh, no? Unless you want me to?”

Axel frowned, “seriously?”

“I just…” Roxas stared down at the spot of dirt on his shoe, realizing the predicament he’d put himself in, “I don’t want to overstay my welcome.”

“You couldn’t possibly. I promise.”

“Come play some games, Rox! I bet you can’t beat me at Mario Kart!” Demyx hollered, plugging a new game cartridge into the N64.

Roxas exhaled, willing himself out of his indifference. “Well, don’t be a sore loser when I _destroy_ you then,” he challenged, finally kicking off his shoes.

Axel raised his eyebrows in a look of surprise, mouth gaping, “the more I get to know you, the more terrifying I think you truly might be.”

Roxas grinned. He nudged Axel as he passed him, and said with a grin, “just you wait.” Satisfied with Axel’s look of intrigue, he settled down next to Demyx on the couch and grabbed an available controller.

The marathon gaming ensued. It began with playful, semi-competitive banter which eventually devolved into a full-blown rivalry and numerous attempts at distracting the other (Demyx was easily fooled, as he was still _quite_ stoned). Axel sat perched on the arm of the couch with a can of soda in one hand, grinning at the childish duo that was currently half-wrestling on the couch. Neither of them were close to winning at this point.

Demyx cackled as he managed to tear the controller from Roxas’s hands, but in the process of doing so, he’d accidentally discarded his own onto the floor.

Roxas laughed, delighted tears brimming in the corners of his eyes, and fell back onto the couch. Demyx, on the other hand, took the opportunity to continue playing with the controller that he had stolen from Roxas.

“Take that—red shell!” Demyx cheered. He moved his body along with his sprite on the screen and threw his arms up in the air as it crossed the finish line. “Yeah, third place! Eat it, Roxas!”

Roxas laughed, “whatever.”

“You know,” Axel paused, glancing at the screen. “Roxas _technically_ got third place… since that’s his controller you’re using. You, on the other hand, are dead last.”

“Wha—” Demyx sat, stunned. He stared blankly at the screen, then to Roxas, and finally to the treacherous controller in his hands. “I… that’s so not fair!”

“Rules are rules, Dem,” Axel shrugged. He tipped his head back and finished his soda, plunking the empty can down onto the coffee table.

“You _both_ suck,” he whined. Demyx stood up and turned off the N64 controller, “well lovebirds, I’m going to turn in for the night. Hopefully my dreams won’t betray me too.”

Roxas snickered, “night, Demyx!”

Demyx made a noise of indifference and shuffled to his bedroom. Once the door was closed, Axel slid down from his seat on the couch arm and sidled next to Roxas.

“Do you need to go home tonight?”

Roxas considered it for a moment. He worked in the morning, but that hadn’t stopped him last time. He also had the advantage of not reeking of alcohol and sweat like after the night at Monstro. He chewed his bottom lip, “I don’t have to.”

“Cool,” Axel closed the distance between them and draped his arm around Roxas’s shoulder in one fluid motion. Their lips met with urgency, and Roxas ran his hand up and into Axel’s hair. Axel grinned into the kiss, taking Roxas by the shoulders and encouraging him to settle down onto his back. With the hand threaded through his hair, Roxas pulled Axel down to meet him on the couch until they were laying together, a mess of tangled limbs and frenzied kisses.

Axel gently bit Roxas’s lower lip, earning himself a quiet noise of approval, and pressed closer. Roxas had been craving this all day. Hell, he’d been craving it all _week_. He parted his lips, tasting sea salt. Axel’s response was immediate; he tilted his head and rolled his hips, long and slow. Roxas whimpered into the kiss and tugged at Axel’s hair encouragingly.

They would’ve continued—would’ve ground their hips together until they were hard, would’ve grasped until clothes ended up on the floor, would’ve kissed and writhed until they were sweaty and out of breath… if it weren’t for the unmistakable sound of a door creaking open.

“Oh-oh god, I’m sorry! Fuck, why are you guys doing that on the _couch?_ I just wanted some water!” Demyx cried out. He made to cover his eyes with his hands, but it looked more like he was trying instead to gouge them out… and he may have been.

Axel laughed, lifting himself off of the couch and offering a hand to help Roxas up. Roxas took it gratefully, face still flushed red, and made his best attempts to not make eye contact with Demyx.

“C’mon,” Axel placed his hand on Roxas’s lower back and ushered him towards his bedroom door.

Axel’s bedroom was… minimalist. Much like in the living room, a large floor to ceiling window took up one of the walls, overlooking the town now illuminated by street-lamps. In the corner, against the window, was a tall cat tree where Mickey was curled up fast asleep. Aside from that, there was a small desk, a bookshelf entirely void of knickknacks, and Axel’s unmade bed. The walls were clean and almost barren, save for a large signed poster of The Clash above Axel’s bed.

“Woah, it’s signed?” Roxas pointed to the poster and approached it for inspection.

Axel chuckled, rubbing at the back of his neck, “yeah… it belonged to my mom. She was a big fan.”

“That’s really sweet,” Roxas smiled sadly at the framed poster. Axel clearly valued sentimentality over aesthetics—he’d have to keep that in mind. Roxas continued to make his way around the room, inspecting the books on the shelf and stopping to scratch Mickey behind his ears.

Lean arms wrapped around his waist from behind, “you looking for traps in here or something?”

“Just checking the perimeter,” Roxas sighed, pressing his back flush against Axel’s chest. “I’ve decided that you need plants in your room.”

Axel chuckled, pressing a kiss to Roxas’s neck, “oh yeah?”

“Yeah,” he tilted his head, allowing Axel a better angle, and reached a hand up to thread through Axel’s hair. “It would liven up the space.”

“I didn’t know you were an interior designer,” Axel teased, breath hot on the space right below Roxas’s ear.

“Shut up,” Roxas chuckled breathily, pulling Axel closer by the back of his neck so those lips would meet skin, and Axel happily obliged him.

He allowed himself a moment of delectation, with his fingers kneading messy red hair, before turning to stand face to face with Axel. Roxas felt a fire in his chest; before him stood Axel, lips parted, eyes dark, and hair a mess where Roxas had been gripping. He pulled Axel down by the front of his shirt and into a full kiss, uninterrupted this time. Axel sighed, hands resting on Roxas’s waist and teasing the hem of his shirt. Roxas had murmured something in between kisses—or maybe it had just been in his head—but it had prompted them to stumble gracelessly toward the bed.

The bed hit the back of Axel’s legs, and Roxas took the opportunity to shove him down and climb into his lap, crushing their lips together once more. Warm hands caressed his thighs and then up under his shirt, gently teasing his spine, and Roxas shivered.

Everywhere Axel touched felt electric. The hands that had traced up his back, tickling his spine, were now working his shirt up and over his head. Roxas followed suit, tugging clumsily at the buttons on the front of Axel’s shirt. Skin met skin, a rush of elation and pleasure and everything was so warm but it still sent a chill down his neck. He rolled his hips and Axel moaned into the kiss, tossing his own shirt onto the floor carelessly.

“Fuck,” Axel’s breath was hot against Roxas’s lips. “How did I get so lucky?”

Roxas pressed a kiss to the space below Axel’s eye, “I don’t think luck has anything to do with this.”

“Whatever it is,” Axel wrapped his arms around Roxas and flipped them around so that Roxas was now laying on his back. His hand slid out from under Roxas’s back and went to brush the blonde hair from his face, “I’m glad it had a part in this.”

Lips trailed down his neck and to his chest, tongue and teeth teasing at nipples, and Roxas exhaled shakily. Axel’s palms smoothed down his abdomen, over the faint blonde hairs that collected around his navel, and down towards where his jeans sat on his hips. Roxas shivered, watching as Axel’s kisses travelled further down his stomach. Timidly, he reached out to touch Axel’s hair in an attempt to gain some sense of control over the situation—it had been so long since he’d been intimate with anyone.

Axel looked up, his expression dark and one of absolute desire, “you okay?”

Roxas swallowed nervously, and nodded, “y-yeah. It’s just been a while.”

Axel smiled, planting a soft kiss below Roxas’s navel. “Just relax, Roxas. If you need me to stop, just tell me.”

He made a noise of acknowledgement and allowed his head to fall back onto the pillow. Axel carried on kissing every exposed inch of skin while carefully unbuttoning and tugging at Roxas’s jeans. His breath caught in his throat, and Roxas propped himself up on his elbows, watching as Axel pinched the waistband of his briefs. Axel glanced up, meeting Roxas’s stare as he slid the underwear down Roxas’s hips, exposing him fully.

“Fuck,” Axel gasped in admiration. “You’re so gorgeous.”

Roxas laughed nervously, “shut up.”

“Seriously, Roxas,” he leaned down and kissed the pale skin of Roxas’s hip bone, then the soft inside of his thigh. “Gorgeous.”

Roxas shuddered, one hand returning to fondle Axel’s hair and the other tightly gripping the bedsheets. He’d been thinking about this all week, but now that it was finally happening, he felt frozen. Stunned. His lip quivered slightly, and Axel took notice.

“Roxas?”

“I’m fine, I just—” He stuttered, “I’m just nervous.”

Axel took Roxas’s hand, the one that was tangled in his hair, and kissed the palm of it gently, “we don’t have to do this yet, if you don’t want to.”

“I do,” Roxas said immediately, his breath shaky. He squeezed the bedsheets in his fist, “I’ve been thinking about you all week.”

“Likewise,” Axel grinned. He released his hand, allowing Roxas to resume tangling his fingers through the mess of red hair. Their gaze lingered momentarily, but ceased when Axel leaned down to tease Roxas’s erection with his tongue. He licked, slowly, from the base to the tip.

Roxas made an attempt to focus on breathing, but the sight and feeling of Axel’s lips on him was making it increasingly difficult. Axel licked and kissed while kneading Roxas’s thigh soothingly. Roxas gasped something unintelligible—something about Axel’s tongue—and his head fell back onto the pillow.

“You okay?” Axel asked quietly, hot breath lingering over sensitive skin.

“Yeah—yeah, I am.”

Axel kissed his thigh once more before wrapping his lips around the head and tracing his tongue slowly, carefully—Roxas shuddered, succumbing to the warmth of Axel’s mouth on him and around him. The warmth of Axel’s mouth engulfed him, tongue hot on the underside of his cock. Axel repeated the motion, his hands hot on Roxas’s thighs.

Roxas’s breath was coming out in sharp gasps and irregular pants, stifled whenever Axel would suck sharply or hum. It was absolute bliss, this kind of attention, and Roxas hadn’t realized how badly he’d missed it. Axel found a steady rhythm, holding Roxas down firmly by the hips to prevent him from thrusting in his mouth.

“F-fuck Axel,” he gasped. “I-I’m… I’m going to—”

Axel hummed in approval, maintaining his tempo. Back arching, Roxas writhed beneath him. His hands still gripped tight the bedsheets and Axel’s hair, which he’d likely have to apologize for later, as he was pulling _hard_ now. He moaned and muttered under his breath, head tossing back and forth. _So good._ Axel’s tongue—his mouth was so warm. Axel leaned forward, swallowing him fully and humming and sucking and everything was so inexplicably hot and—

_Oh._

Roxas cried out as he came, hips jolting beyond his control. Axel made a noise of discomfort, likely due to the way Roxas was pulling at his hair, but he allowed Roxas to ride out the pleasure. Once he’d settled, Axel slowly pulled away and wiped his mouth.

“Holy shit,” Roxas gasped, staring at the ceiling.

“Holy shit is right,” Axel chuckled and kissed his thigh before standing up. “I thought you were going to rip my hair out.”

“I’m so sorry,” Roxas panted. “I-wow, that was awesome. You… Awesome.”

“Not the most articulate after an orgasm, are you?”

“Shut up,” Roxas sat up and smiled weakly at Axel, whose lips were dark and damp, hair an absolute mess upon his shoulders. Roxas paused, smiling at the green eyes that shone with adoration for him. “You look beautiful.”

“What?” Axel chuckled, collecting their clothes from the floor and tossing them onto the bed. “Do you say that every time someone gives you a blowjob?”

“No.” Roxas shuffled to the edge of the bed, legs over the edge, “just you.”

Axel hummed and leaned down, pressing a damp kiss to Roxas’s forehead. “Let’s get cleaned up.”

Despite his state of post-orgasm, Roxas had trouble falling asleep. The moon shone through Axel’s window and the light of it was just enough to illuminate the silhouette beside him. Axel was on his side, facing Roxas, one arm draped across his torso in the remnants of an embrace. His breathing was steady and slow and Roxas quietly watched the rise and fall of his chest, leaning in to feel the soft puff of his exhales. He shifted his body closer, causing a stir from Axel.

Axel mumbled something incoherent and shifted to lay on his back, pulling Roxas along with him.

“Axel?” Roxas whispered in the quiet of the bedroom.

Axel stirred, pulling Roxas down against his chest, but otherwise made no indication of being awake. Roxas didn’t mind, though. He buried his face against Axel’s chest, inhaling deeply.

“Thank you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like I'm taking longer and longer to update with each chapter, and for that I'm sorry. End of term assignments had me SWAMPED, and while I really should be doing homework right now, I managed to find some time to finish this chapter after a good number of short sittings.
> 
> The slow burn paid off (I hope)!
> 
> The chapter title is from the song Boys Don't Cry by The Cure. The song referenced in the chapter, The Lovecats, is also by The Cure. I really love The Cure. Go listen to The Cure. Anyways.
> 
> Thanks, pals. I love all of you. Go hug your mom for me.


	9. Heart of Glass

_Five years earlier_

 

“ _If you get stuck I’m just gonna go on without you—”_

The clouds above him were spinning unusually fast. Had they always moved that quickly, or was it just the vertigo? Roxas squeezed his eyes shut, blinking until his vision corrected. His palms and wrists burned from the road rash when he’d fallen. Rookie mistake—never land on your hands.

“Roxas!” A voice called out, concerned, though not without a hint of amusement. Hayner jogged to where Roxas lay flat on his back in the middle of the skate park, glaring up at the clouds. “You okay, man? That landing sucked,” Hayner didn’t bother to hide his chuckle as he offered a hand to Roxas.

“You’re telling me,” Roxas groaned. He took Hayner’s hand and pulled himself into a seated position.

“ _It’s shredding me in half, but I’m not gonna lose you and me too—”_

Roxas wiped the debris from his palms onto his pants and noticed then that his knee was in far worse shape; the denim had torn and the skin beneath was bloodied and raw, caked with dirt. Roxas steadied himself, taking Hayner’s hand again and allowing his friend to pull him up. The dizziness had faded, fortunately, but Roxas was now consumed by the burning sensation in his knee and hands.

Hayner broke off to collect Roxas’s discarded skateboard, which had rolled off to thud against the weary chainlink fence several metres away. “I swear, sometimes it’s like Pence taught you to skate,” he teased, tucking the skateboard under his arm.

“Hey, he’s still better than you are.”

“ _Ouch_ ,” Hayner gasped.

Roxas followed him to their pile of discarded belongings—portable speaker, backpacks and jackets—and dug through his bag in search of anything that might help with the blood. He managed to find a crumpled napkin, and at the very least he was able to wipe away the blood that had begun to trickle down his shin.

“ _My heart just started screaming, ‘maybe this isn’t meant to be’—”_

The music came to an abrupt stop as Hayner disconnected his phone from the speaker and packed it into his bag.

“Hey, uh,” Hayner swung his backpack over his shoulder. “My mom has some bandages and stuff that you can use.”

“You sure?” Roxas asked skeptically.

“Yeah,” Hayner muttered, eyes focused on his shoes. He stepped on the tail of his board, snapping it and catching it in his other hand with ease. “They’re, uh… my parents are gone for the weekend.”

Roxas grinned, the bite of his wounds dulling temporarily.

They’d been dating for two months, yet Hayner still had trouble articulating his feelings and desires. They’d agreed to keep things private, no exceptions, and there had been no further complications. Roxas understood Hayner’s need for privacy; they were in the closet, and while Roxas had come to terms with his own sexuality, Hayner couldn’t be more disoriented. Hayner had expressed his feelings for Roxas several times, usually with the assistance of alcohol, but still couldn’t handle anything that wasn’t contained in the privacy of their hideout—the usual spot. It was a work in progress, and Roxas was confident that they’d be able to come out together one day.

Hayner cleared his throat, “so… do you want to come over?” He finally looked back at Roxas, and though his face remained stoic, his cheeks held the slightest shade of red.

“Yeah,” Roxas grinned, chewing at his bottom lip.

“Cool,” Hayner cleared his throat and leaned in—but not without checking his surroundings—to kiss Roxas briefly. Roxas barely had a chance to return the kiss before Hayner was pulling away with an apologetic smile. He playfully punched Roxas on the shoulder, resuming character, “c’mon, let’s go.”

It was an improvement. A step in the right direction, and maybe, Roxas thought, they wouldn’t have to hide forever. He smiled to himself as Hayner turned and began to walk, leading the way.

Hayner’s parents lived in the suburbs, within walking distance to a train station that led straight to the heart of downtown Radiant Garden. Most of all, it was easy for Hayner to transit to and from the Usual Place, which was in walking distance from Roxas’s own home. The best part about Hayner’s neighbourhood, aside from it being separated from the chaos of downtown, was that the nearby skate parks were typically unoccupied. It was rare for them to be in the company of others while at those parks, and when there were other skaters at one, another would only be several blocks away.

They approached Hayner’s house and Roxas watched as Hayner fished his keychain out from his bag, hands quivering. Roxas pretended not to notice. He’d been to Hayner’s parent’s house before, but not since the two had started dating, not that Hayner would ever call it that. Roxas suspected that Hayner felt too anxious to invite him over at the risk of outing their relationship, and Roxas wasn’t prepared to face that kind of awkward situation yet. That, and Hayner’s parents weren’t exactly the most liberal-minded folks.

Hayner opened the door and Roxas quietly followed him inside. They kicked off their shoes and discard their belongings at the base of the staircase before going upstairs.

“The first aid stuff’s in my parent’s bathroom,” Hayner opened the door to the master bedroom, and Roxas reluctantly followed. Going into other parents’ bedrooms always felt like breaking some unspoken law. It looked exactly how he’d expect the bedroom of a suburban middle aged couple to look—too tidy, bed neatly made with extra pillows, all drawers tightly shut, and no evidence of it ever being lived in, save for the family photos. It reminded him of his own parent’s bedroom, and how all parents seem to live under this facade of perfection and cleanliness. Skeletons were always in the closet, after all.

The bathroom was large and bright. Roxas sat on the edge of the bathtub and watched as Hayner opened the cupboard under the sink. Hayner gathered a box of bandages, paper towel, some ointment and a bottle of peroxide.

“Shove over,” he gestured to the space next to Roxas. Roxas slid over on the bathtub, allowing Hayner to sit next to him.

Hayner poured some peroxide onto a folded paper tower and blotted it onto Roxas’s palms, cleaning away the dirt. Roxas flinched at the sting of the peroxide on his wound.

“Would you hold still?” Hayner laughed, grabbing Roxas’s wrist with his other hand.

“It hurts, dude.”

“I know it does, but it’ll suck more if we don’t clean it.”

Hayner was uncharacteristically quiet as he cleaned and bandaged Roxas’s wounds. The blood had mostly dried on his wrists and knee, and luckily they weren’t more than surface wounds. Roxas watched as Hayner smoothed the last bandage over his knee.

“Are you okay?” Roxas asked after several minutes of silence.

Hayner crumpled up the wrappers from the bandages and tossed them into the bin. He forced a grin and stood up, “what do you mean?”

“You seem nervous.”

“Me?” Hayner laughed, but his laughter didn’t hold the same cadence as usual, “nah. You’re thinking too much again. Come on, you’re good now, so let’s watch something stupid; I found some _awful_ horror movies that I think you’ll like.”

Roxas didn’t move, and instead stared up at Hayner skeptically.

Hayner sighed, “hey man, you’re the one who’s always lost in your head about stuff.” He turned his back to rummage under the sink once again, returning everything to their original places.

“You sure it’s me this time?” Roxas teased.

“Shut up,” Hayner approached him and took Roxas’s wrist in his hand, mindful of the injury, and pulled him up off the edge of the tub. “I just… thought we could have a night together. That’s all.”

“Well, nothing says romance like b-list horror movies,” Roxas grinned, shifting his hand to lace his fingers through Hayner’s.

“We’re not exactly conventional, Rox,” Hayner stepped forward, his free hand wandering up and under the back of Roxas’s shirt.

Hayner was right. They weren’t conventional, and maybe they never would be, but Roxas didn’t want to dwell on it. Perhaps he knew then, deep down, that they wouldn’t stay together. He should’ve taken the warnings for what they were rather than disregard them out of spite. Because after all, he was happy, and maybe it wouldn’t be for long, but he knew in that moment that it was all he wanted.

Roxas grabbed the back of Hayner’s neck, ignoring the stinging in the palm of his hands, and pulled him in for a kiss. This time, with no one around that might see, Hayner let it linger.

 

 

Axel was an impossibly heavy sleeper.

Despite the jarring alarm from Roxas’s cellphone and the blinding morning light coming in through the window, Axel didn’t so much as stir in his sleep. Axel was pressed against Roxas’s back, arm draped loosely over his torso, and Roxas allowed himself several moments to savour the warmth of Axel’s bare skin before he got up. He’d let Axel sleep in while he showered for work, because it was clear he wouldn’t be waking anytime soon. That, and Roxas couldn’t bring himself to do that to him, not with the way that Axel looked while he slept.

Eventually, he left the bed and collected his clothes off the floor, smiling to himself as he recalled the previous night. He supposed Axel wouldn’t mind if he borrowed the shower, and really, he’d probably appreciate the sleep-in after their late night together. Axel had earned it.

After the shower, he was pleased to find Demyx in the kitchen with a freshly brewed pot of coffee. A record was playing on the stereo, one that Roxas didn’t recognize, and he thought it safe to assume there would _always_ music playing so long as Demyx was around. But with a record collection like Demyx’s, it would be a shame not to.

“Morning, Roxas!” Demyx sang from the kitchen, looking over his shoulder. Roxas approached to find him making a terrible mess of the stove, cooking what appeared to be an excessively cheesy batch of scrambled eggs.

“Good morning,” Roxas greeted timidly, approaching the counter top. The sight of Demyx had reminded him of the interrupted couch make-out session from the night before. Unfortunately, Demyx walking in on the pair of them—tangled limbs and locked lips—hadn’t just been a nightmare.

Roxas gestured to the pot of coffee, “do you mind if I have some of that?”

“Knock yourself out. There’s cream in the fridge.”

“Thanks,” he took a mug from the drying rack and filled it. Demyx quietly sang along to the music as he piled the eggs onto a plate.

Roxas took his coffee to one of the kitchen barstools and sat, then cleared his throat. If there was to be any awkward tension between them, he’d rather just deal with it now. “Uh… I’m sorry about last night,” he said quietly before sipping his too-hot coffee.

At this, Demyx guffawed, “what? Don’t worry about it, Rox. I’ve seen worse.” He spun around, pointing his egg and cheese-caked spatula at Roxas, “and between you and me, I’m glad to see Axel happy again. After his mom died and his dick-wad of an ex dumped him, I was starting to worry. I can tell that you make him feel good. He’s happier than he’s been in a long time, and I have a feeling a lot of that has to do with you.” Demyx shrugged, baring a smile that held nothing but admiration, “you’re a good dude, Roxas.”

Roxas flushed, “uh, I… thanks, Demyx.”

“You’re welcome,” Demyx concluded, tossing the spatula into the sink. “But that still doesn’t mean you guys can make out on my couch,” he said, entirely deadpan, as he took his plate of eggs with him to the living-room. Roxas watched wide eyed as Demyx flopped onto the couch, plate in his lap, and began to browse his phone.

Roxas nearly choked on his coffee, “that, uh, yeah. Okay. Deal.”

Axel was up moments later, dragging his feet as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes. He made a bee line for the coffee maker before saying a word, and Roxas watched with affection as Axel lazily poured himself a cup. His red hair was a tangled mess, sloppily tied into a bun, and the sight of it accompanied with the memories of the night before brought warmth to Roxas’s cheeks.

Coffee in hand, Axel went to lean against the countertop next to where Roxas was seated. “You have to leave soon?” He asked, kissing the top of Roxas’s head.

“Yeah,” Roxas leaned into the kiss. “In about ten minutes, after coffee.”

Axel groaned in protest, burying his face in Roxas’s hair.

“Come visit me later?”

“I wouldn’t miss it,” Axel said softly, voice muffled in blonde hair.

 

 

Aerith was in the middle of receiving a shipment when Roxas arrived, and an unexpectedly large one at that. The storefront was full of various wholesale buckets and at the sight of them, Roxas hurried to hang up his coat in the back and locate his apron in order to help.

“You should’ve told me there would be so much, mom! I could’ve come in earlier to help,” Roxas sighed, gathering a massive bunch of coral coloured peonies from their bucket and laying them on the table.

“It’s fine, Rox. You just missed the drop-off, so I haven’t even started,” Aerith smiled. She was working on preparing her own bundle of flowers, some yellow roses, and was efficiently stripping them of their thorns and cutting the stems before placing them neatly in a display bucket of fresh water. “Did you have a good night?”

Roxas hesitated and swallowed nervously, “uh, yeah. Axel made dinner for us and then the three of us just hung out and played games all night. I didn’t realize how late it had gotten, so I just slept on their couch again.”

“I wasn’t worried,” she smiled to herself.

Roxas grimaced. He couldn’t help but think that she knew more than she was letting on. Had one of Axel’s friends from Turner’s outed him accidentally? All it would take is one innocent conversation with a mutual friend, and Roxas’s secret would be out. He chewed his lip and focused on the peonies before him, making quick work of cutting the stems.

The morning of processing had left the store in a disastrous state, but that was to be expected whenever they received new inventory. The trimmings from the flowers, discarded leaves and thorns were strewn all over the floor, but at least the cooler was full and prepared for the week. Aerith had begun working on bouquet orders while Roxas swept the floors, readying them for the next mess.

“Is there anything you need me to work on first?” He asked, setting aside the broom.

Aerith looked up from her bouquet, scanning the storefront. “Yeah, can you make some arrangements for outside? I expect the week to be busy with the festival, so it would be nice to have some things ready ahead of time.”

“Can do.”

Roxas took his time deciding on the flowers to use; they’d ordered plenty of assorted stock in preparation for the week of the festival, so he could afford to be creative. With many people attending outdoor events and barbecues, the Danelion Festival was easily one of their busiest weeks annually, despite it just being a local event. And unlike major holidays, the Dandelion Festival didn’t have any colours or flowers assigned to it, so he was free to create whatever he chose. For now, he’d settled on various red and orange flowers, a fiery combination accented with bold greenery. He was reminded of Axel’s hair, which he’d been tugging on lustfully only hours ago.

“How was Xion?” Aerith interrupted, wrapping cellophane and coloured tissue paper around her finished bouquet.

“You were right about her,” Roxas admitted. “It took a while for her to warm up to me, but I think we got along really well. I invited her to come hang out at the festival with us, when Ven and Prompto are here.”

“Really?” Her eyes narrowed at him doubtfully, but she smiled.

He laughed, “what do you mean, _really_?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Aerith sighed. She took the bouquet to the cooler and hesitated before opening the door. “Don’t take this the wrong way, Rox, but you’ve never been quick to make friends before. Now all of a sudden with Axel, Demyx and Xion…” she shrugged, placing the bouquet inside the cooler before continuing. “Don’t get me wrong, I think it’s wonderful, and you seem happier.”

“I am,” Roxas admitted, absently running his thumb over the stem of a cymbidium.

“Well, I’m happy _for_ you. And no offence, but it’s nice having some time to myself at home.”

“Ah, the truth comes out. I see how it is,” he grinned.

Aerith smiled as she gathered the flowers for her next bouquet. “How do you expect me to have company over if you’re always lounging around at home?”

“Wait…” Roxas stilled, “company like… like a _date?_ Mom, are you dating again?”

She carefully laid her flowers onto the table, “it’s been long enough, so I thought I’d give it a try.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

Aerith glanced at him and smiled, “I can have secrets too.”

Roxas’s heart thumped in his chest. What was _that_ supposed to mean?

“Uh…” He continued his arrangement, ignoring her comment. “So, who is he?”

Aerith sighed dreamily, and Roxas was warmed by her genuine reaction. He hadn’t seen that look on her face in ages, and it only became less frequent as the years went on when his father was still around. Aerith hadn’t been happy with Roxas’s father, at least from what he could tell by the latter years. He may have missed their lovesick days, the honeymoon phase, when they still swooned over each other—or maybe they never even had that. He’d always felt contempt towards his father because of it, and sympathy for Aerith, who was always too kind for her own good.

“His name is Leon. I met him at one of the weddings from a couple weekends ago. He was the MC for the couple getting married and was awfully helpful and charming. He insisted on helping me with the decor before the wedding, and something just clicked between us, I guess. He asked for my number and we’ve been on a few dates since then. I think you’d really like him, Roxas,” Aerith said softly. Roxas could tell she was being cautious about the subject, gauging his reaction.

“Wait, but, _how_? I never see you leave, aside from work!”

Aerith laughed again and winked at Roxas. “Well, let’s just say your outings with friends have worked in my favour lately.”

With everything else going on, this was the last thing he’d expected to hear. Not that Aerith didn’t deserve it, after everything. Conversely, he couldn’t be more thrilled about the news, but that didn’t meant that it didn’t come as a surprise.

Roxas beamed, “damn. Well, I’m happy for you, mom. Really. I… I know the divorce was hard on you.”

“Don’t worry about it, sweetie. I’m tougher than I look,” Aerith emphasized her statement by flexing her bicep, and Roxas laughed.

“I know you are.”

It was nearly noon when Aerith had finished the bouquet orders for the day. Roxas was on his second set of arrangements and seriously considering his second cup of coffee, when the door chimed. Roxas looked up from his arrangement, fully expecting a customer, but was instead met with Axel’s familiar wicked grin. His face immediately went red—he’d not been prepared for this, not with Aerith still around.

“Axel! Uh, hey. You’re earlier than usual,” Roxas shot Axel a look that implied the surprise was unwelcome, though it didn’t seem to phase Axel.

“Believe it or not, I _do_ leave the house before noon sometimes,” Axel approached the counter and smiled politely at Aerith before his gaze settled on Roxas.

“Sure, of course,” Roxas mumbled. He looked to his mom, who seemed very intrigued by the situation. She was watching with a curious expression, dimples in her cheeks present from her tight-lipped smile. Roxas gestured to her, “uh, this is Aerith, my mom.

“We’ve already met! The day after you cut young finger, remember? Hello again, Aerith,” Axel waved at her. He used the same tone of voice that he did with the middle aged ladies at Turner’s—charming, yet professional. “Thanks for ordering the flytraps for me, by the way.”

Aerith’s eyes widened briefly in realization, but she remained composed. “Ah, so _you_ were the one that wanted them.”

“Yeah,” Axel chuckled, glancing at the way Roxas nervously gripped his rose stem. “My roommate unleashed a swarm of fruit flies into the apartment, so I thought it might help.”

“Well, I hope they’re not a problem anymore,” Aerith said.

“Not at all! So how’s work going for you two?”

Roxas could appreciate that Axel was trying to keep things casual, as to not give Aerith the wrong impression—or rather, the _right_ impression?

Roxas dug his nails into the stem of the rose, offering an apologetic look at Axel. “We’re pretty busy today—y’know, preparing for the festival and everything.” Hopefully, he’d take the hint and come back later instead.

“Ah, well I can leave you to it then,” Axel took a step backward.

“Not at all! You’re welcome to hang out,” Aerith laughed, shaking her head. “We’re not so busy that you can’t stay and talk. So, you work at the coffee shop, Axel?”

“Huh? No,” Axel looked perplexed, until he noticed the panicked look on Roxas’s face. “I… uh,” he looked between Roxas and Aerith apprehensively. “I’m a software designer. Coding, and stuff.”

“Oh,” Aerith hummed. Rather than looking confused, she looked… satisfied. “I thought Roxas said you worked at the coffee shop—I was wondering why I’d never seen you there.”

“Uh… He—” Roxas began, but was hurriedly interrupted by Axel.

“So Aerith, how long have you been a florist?”

“Hmm, just shy of thirty years now.” Her eyes briefly flicked to Roxas and the way he tensed up in response. She returned her attention to the flowers before her, “believe it or not, I went to art school years ago. I wanted to be a painter, but it never worked out. Such a competitive industry.”

Roxas turned to her, “Wait… seriously? Why have I never seen your paintings?”

“Things happened, I married your dad, and we needed the financial stability after Prompto was born, so I found work as a florist.” She stared fondly out into the shop, at the display cooler full of freshly cut flowers. “It all worked out in the end, because I love what I do, and if it weren’t for this career, I might not’ve had you and Ven.”

“Mom…” Roxas began, but was at a loss for words.

She’d never expressed her love for painting, even with the many times Naminé had come over to do just that. He wondered if his father had stifled that passion, or if she had just fallen out of love with it in favour of her new life and kids.

Axel was the one to break the silence. “At least you’re still doing something creative. And hey, if you ever wanted to try painting again, I’d love to have a painting party, not that I know the first thing about it.”

Aerith smiled in return, genuinely pleased. “I would really enjoy that, Axel. Thank you.”

As Axel and Aerith chatted, Roxas was able to will himself into a calmer state. It wasn’t so bad, and Axel hadn’t done or said anything to compromise their secret. Eventually, after a customer had wandered into the store and interrupted their visit, Axel had left with just a casual wave and a goodbye. Roxas smiled, a quiet thank you for respecting his secret. As Aerith assisted the customer, Roxas finished off yet another arrangement and brought it to the display table outside.

Discreetly, he pulled out his cellphone and sent a text to Axel (flame emoji):

_Sorry about that… I thought you’d be in later, so I panicked._

_Thanks for keeping our secret for now._ _See you soon._

He pocketed his phone and wandered back inside, holding the door open for the customer that was now exiting the shop. As he approached the table, he felt a vibration in his pocket, but held off on checking it for now.

“Now it’s your turn,” Aerith said once Roxas had returned to his table.

“Huh?” Roxas looked to her, flustered.

She laid her half-finished bouquet on the table, full attention now on Roxas. “I told you about Leon, so work with me here. How long have you and Axel been together?” Her voice wasn’t stern, judgemental, condescending, or any of the countless negative reactions that Roxas had expected. Instead, Aerith was as calm as ever, still smiling at him as though they were talking about something as simple as tomorrow’s flower orders or what he wanted for dinner.

“What?” He said breathily, caught off guard despite her countless hints. 

Aerith tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “He seems very nice. I’m not so sure about the hair, but it’s not really my place to say. Maybe it’ll grow on me.”

“Mom, it’s not like that…” Roxas could barely form the words at this point. He didn’t know why he even bothered trying to hide it. She knew. She _knew_ … and it was okay. He could feel his hands and lips quivering, and the painful swelling in his chest, threatening to burst.

Aerith approached him slowly and laid her hands on his shoulders, squeezing them affectionately. “Roxas, it’s okay. I know. I’ve known about you for a long time.”

“I—” Roxas stuttered. Tears welled in his eyes as he shook with a sob, “I’m sorry I never told you. I was so scared, and then I just… I don’t know, I’ve had it bottled up for so long that it just became harder to say. I didn’t… I didn’t want to disappoint you any more than I already have.”

“What?” Aerith pulled back in surprise and chuckled softly, then pulled him into a tight hug. “Sweetheart, you could never disappoint me.”

Roxas buried his face in her shoulder. He couldn’t stop the tears from coming, so he let them fall. “I just… I see Prompto and Ven, and they’re doing so well, they’re so successful, and—”

“Roxas,” she smoothed her hand down his back.

“And after everything that happened with dad, and your divorce.”

“Honey.”

Roxas sobbed, his words coming out muffled and breathy, “I have no idea what I’m doing with my life, mom. I’m gay and I’ve kept it hidden for so long, because… because….”

“Rox, please.”

He exhaled shakily, “I wish I could’ve told you. It just felt like nothing was improving ever. I was trapped, going in circles, not having a clue. Until….”

Aerith leaned back and cupped his cheek in the palm of her hand, softly encouraging Roxas to look up. “Things will always get better, Roxas, and I think you’re starting to finally see that.”

“Mom…” his cheeks were red and tear stained, be he felt overwhelming relief. The door chimed as a customer walked in, and Roxas jolted in surprise.

Aerith released Roxas from her hold, “you don’t need to explain, Roxas. You can tell me everything later, or whenever you feel like you’re ready.”

He nodded, stepping back to allow her to help the customer. He then disappeared into the back room, not wanting the customer to witness him in this state. He closed himself in the bathroom and leaned against the door, staring at his reflection in the mirror. His reflection stared back, face blotchy and damp from tears… but he was smiling. Roxas ran a hand through his hair and sank to the floor, laughing despite the emotional turmoil.

Axel always had the best intentions, there was no doubt about that, but he’d be lying if he’d said the past two weeks haven’t been trying. The meeting with his friends at Turner’s as well as the reveal to Xion had stressed him out more than he would’ve liked, but… he was out, finally. After everything, he could finally begin to make progress and come to terms with it all.

There was a light knock on the door. “Roxas, are you alright?” Aerith softly called from the other side.

“Yeah, I’m okay.” He picked himself up off the floor. “I’ll be out in a second.”

He splashed some water on his face and combed his fingers through his hair, styling it in place as best as he could. The tears had stopped, but his eyes were still puffy and red. He didn’t mind. Everything would be okay.

Things would get better.

 

 

Aerith had left work at her usual time, but not without giving Roxas an excessive amount of hugs and forehead kisses. He quite literally had to force her out the door, laughing as he did so. Since then, he’d maintained his good mood, as good as bittersweet sentimentality _could_ feel when paired with anxiety. He chatted with regular customers for longer than usual and swept the shop floors until they were spotless, which was the least he could do for the time being in appreciation for Aerith. As closing time approached, he slowly began to bring the products inside the shop before cashing out and locking up.

He’d been about to lift a tray of African violets when he heard a hesitant voice approaching him from behind.

“Roxas?”

He could’ve sworn that his heart had stopped for a moment. Roxas spun around. Before him stood who he’d suspected, but had not wanted to see: Hayner. His hair was trimmed neatly on the sides, but the wild blond curls that Roxas was so familiar were styled atop his head in such a way that showed he’d actually put effort into it. He’d abandoned his love of camo print in favour of solid colours (a wise choice, in Roxas’s opinion), and overall he just looked… more adult.

“Hayner…” Roxas finally managed to utter the name, and was thankful that his hands were free because he probably would’ve dropped anything that he’d been holding by now. He stiffened as Hayner approached him.

“Holy shit, it really is you. Hey, I—” Hayner smiled nervously, rubbing at the back of his neck. “It’s been a while, huh?”

Roxas didn’t want this. Not now. Not after everything had been going so well. Hayner had been the _reason_ for so much of his anxiety. He’d been the reason Roxas had doubted his sexuality for so long, and the reason it had been kept a secret for so long. Hayner couldn’t just decide on his own when to come back, not after everything Roxas had gone through.

But, in spite of everything… it was still _him._

“Yeah. It has.” Roxas couldn’t even bring himself to smile. The worry that he’d fought off earlier that day began to creep up his spine again, chilling him.

Hayner shifted nervously, “uh, so, I’m in town with some friends for the festival. I thought, maybe, you and I could catch up at some point while I’m here? Just the two of us.”

Roxas stared. The way Hayner faked his confidence, his crooked smile, the way he gestured too much with his hands while he talked… it was all too familiar.

At the lack of verbal response, Hayner continued, “I mean, we could just grab a beer and talk. I don’t skate as much anymore, but I brought my board just in case you wanted to do that?” He took a deep breath, searching Roxas’s expression before admitting, “it’s been a long time, and I’ve been thinking a lot about… everything.”

“Why?” 

“Huh?”

“Why do you want to catch up?” Roxas clarified, voice steady. “It’s been five years.”

“Because… we were best friends, Roxas. More than that.” Hayner shrugged, but he didn’t seem afraid of saying it out loud anymore. “I felt a lot of regret, I guess. After… after everything that happened, it took me a while to come to terms with it all. Eventually, I wanted to reach out to you again, to apologize.”

Roxas wanted to yell. He wanted to ask why Hayner got to decide when to reconnect, when Roxas never had a say in it. Why he couldn’t have tried all those years ago to even so much as apologize. Roxas had his heart broken, and he’d dealt with it alone. So why was it, now five years later, that Hayner had the audacity to come back as though nothing had happened?

He clenched his fists at his side.

Hayner let his stare wander to the display behind Roxas, to the arrangements that he’d built earlier that day. He sighed, “I thought I owed you one, after what I’d done. But then when I tried, I realized it was too late, and you’d already moved away, you changed your number. And I’m sorry about your parents splitting—that really sucks.”

“It’s fine. I saw it coming,” Roxas said bitterly, and even he wasn’t sure if he’d said it in regards to his parents or to Hayner.

“Sure,” Hayner looked defeated. He dug his hand into his coat pocket a pulled out a slip of paper, offering it to Roxas. “Anyways, I came prepared, because I know how stubborn you can be.”

Roxas took the paper from Hayner’s hand and unfolded it. It was a phone number.

Hayner’s hands returned to his jacket pockets, but remained there. “I’ll leave it up to you, Rox. I know you don’t owe me anything, but I thought I’d at least try to reconnect. Anyways, I can see you’re busy, so I’ll see you around.” He took a step backwards, nodding to Roxas, then turned to leave.

Roxas gritted his teeth as he watch Hayner’s retreat. “You really hurt me back then,” Roxas said suddenly, and bitterly.

Hayner spun on his heel, a pained look of desperation on his face, “you think I don’t know that already?”

That only earned him a glare from Roxas.

Hayner sighed heavily, “look, Rox, this is me trying to meet you in the middle. If you don’t want to catch up, then throw it away. It’s entirely up to you. I’m not going to force you to do anything.”

“I’ll think about it.”

And he meant that.

“That’s all I’m asking for,” Hayner’s expression softened. Their eyes met briefly, and Hayner sighed, “anyways, I gotta go, and you probably have things to do. I’ll be here until next Sunday, you know, if you want to hang out.”

“See you later, Hayner.” For the first time in their brief encounter, Roxas allowed himself to smile.

Hayner returned it, looking hopeful. “I really hope so, Rox. We have a lot to catch up on.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off, I am so sorry about how long this took to finish. December was a write-off because I had oral surgery, on pain meds, and then I was visiting family for the holidays. January was the start of school again, and so far this semester has been insane, and then of course KH3 came out and I dedicated a lot of time to that. I've barely had any free time, and to top it all off, this chapter was just... a struggle to get through. I'm content with what came of it, but it took me forever and I had to rewrite everything numerous times. ANYWAYS, I hope you're happy with the end result. I have a bit of a break coming up, so I'll try to squeeze in as much writing as I can in between homework assignments.
> 
> Thanks for sticking with me, guys. I'm so overwhelmed by the positive responses and love that this fic has received, and it brings me so much joy to write it (whenever I can find the time). I've met many friends along the way and you've all encouraged me to be consumed, yet again, by a fandom that I hold so close to my heart. Despite all the discourse and negativity surrounding fandom right now, I can't help but feel so glad that I'm a part of this family. Let's just keep spreading love and moving forward, because sometimes it's all we can do. Anyways, that's my rant for the day.
> 
> The song playing at the beginning of the chapter is "See Ya, Sucker" by Modern Baseball. I've mentioned them before, but if you haven't already listened to Modern Baseball, I would highly recommend them. To me, there's no other band that screams "Roxas" quite like they do.
> 
> Chapter title is from the song Heart of Glass by Blondie, who I had the pleasure of seeing a few years ago. Debbie Harry still rocks.


	10. Happy House

By the next morning, the slip of paper in Roxas’s pocket had fallen victim to his nervous fidgeting and the pencilled in phone number had been creased and smudged beyond legibility (though he had his wits enough to add the number into his cellphone contacts beforehand… just in case). He left it there, crumpled in his pocket, even after he’d added the number to his phone. He didn’t know why, but he couldn’t bring himself to toss it out. It was destined to disintegrate in the bottom of his pocket, like the many gum wrappers and receipts that he’d collected there in the past. He just wanted to hang on to it… not that Hayner _deserved_ it.

Aerith had left that morning for her Sunday shift with what was possibly the brightest smile that Roxas had ever seen on her face. He wasn’t sure if it was due to her sons coming home, the fact that Roxas had finally opened up to her and come clean about his sexuality, or a combination of both. Hell, for all he knew, maybe Leon had just sent a cute text that morning. She said goodbye to Roxas, but not without showering him in another hundred statements of “I love you” accompanied by nearly as many cheek kisses (she’d gotten her point across after the fifth one).

Ventus was due to arrive in the early afternoon, which allowed Roxas an entire morning of preparation, both mental and physical. While he and Aerith were similar in their quiet demeanours, he couldn’t say the same for the rest of his family, especially when they were all in a room together. His brothers could be _loud_ , and when Sora was added to the mix, things only escalated. He loved his brothers, and Sora was an absolute delight, but he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t grown accustomed to his tranquil lifestyle with Aerith.

So naturally, he was a bit peeved to hear the doorbell ring _not_ in the afternoon, but at 11:30 am as he was just getting out of the shower. Roxas sighed to himself, quickly towel drying his hair and throwing on a change of clothes, and went to check the door. He peeked through the living room window, praying that it was just a door-to-door salesman or a neighbour that he could ignore, but was instead met with the smiling face of his twin brother.

He opened the front door and immediately stumbled backwards as Ventus flung his arms around his neck.

“You’re early,” Roxas teased, forcing the illusion of joy. At least the quiet time had been nice while it lasted.

“Yeah, I thought I’d surprise you!” Ventus released his twin and dropped his overnight bag onto the welcome mat before shrugging off his jacket. “I hope that’s okay.”

Roxas chuckled, “well, it’s definitely a surprise. But it’s good to see you, Ven. You look… too good. Suspiciously good. Are you sure the exams were stressful?”

Ventus laughed loudly, hanging up his jacket next to Roxas’s. “Of course they were! Man, I thought I was going to _die,_ but maybe I just handle stress better than you do.”

“I mean, that’s a given.”

Despite his intensive program, sleepless nights, and a mess of exams, Ventus looked as good as he ever did—maybe even better. Where Roxas thought he appeared more tired and worn out with age, Ventus wore it well and seemed to embrace the years as they went by. He’d even went and gotten his hair cut before arriving, Roxas could tell by the close trim around his brother’s ears and neck. He ran a hand through his own hair, outgrown and disheveled (and still _very_ damp). Ventus looked mature, well-adjusted, _happy_ … or whatever it was. Roxas bit his lip, suppressing a wave of envy. Now wasn’t the time for that.

Ventus hoisted his duffel back back onto his shoulder and gave Roxas a look that suggested ‘ _I know you’re overthinking something again’._ He kicked off his shoes and followed Roxas into the living room, “so how are you doing, Rox?”

Roxas shrugged, “pleasantly overwhelmed?”

“That’s practically an oxymoron. If you’re already overwhelmed, then I’ll hate to see what happens to you when Sora arrives later.”

Roxas smiled, genuinely this time, “Tell me about it.”

Ven took the lead, walking down the familiar hallway to Roxas’s bedroom. Ven’s old room, which had since been repurposed into a guest bedroom (though rarely used), would serve as Noctis and Prompto’s room for the week. The two insisted on sharing the bed, even after Aerith had said that she could pick up an additional cot for one of them. Prompto argued that they’d shared beds many times during their travels, and it was no big deal. Roxas couldn’t help but think there was another, more _intimate_ reason for them wanting to share the bed, but he didn’t bring it up to Aerith. His suspicions were valid; the two of them spent an awful lot of time together, business or not.

Sora and Ven, on the other hand, would be sleeping on cots in Roxas’s room. Roxas wasn’t thrilled with the idea, but he’d agreed to it as soon as Aerith had suggested giving up her own bedroom. Roxas could tolerate a week of chaos for her. Besides, he could probably escape to Axel’s for at least two of those nights, if all went well.

“Mom at work?” Ven said as he tossed his duffel bag onto one of the cots.

“Mhm.”

Ventus sighed, “she works too much.”

“You’re telling _me,”_ Roxas leaned against the doorway and watched as Ven unpacked his clothes. Every damn shirt and pair of pants was neatly folded, and Roxas let out of huff of amusement at the sight. Ever since they were kids, Ventus had always been the tidy one—clean clothes, neat hair, no dirt in sight. “We hired a new girl though,” Roxas continued. “I think that’ll help with the work load for the summer.”

“Oh yeah?” Ventus looked up from his bag, a sympathetic grin on his face. “Has mom tried to set you up with her yet?”

“Not quite,” Roxas laughed breathily and looked down at his feet. He couldn’t stop thinking about their conversation yesterday, to the point where it almost felt like a dream. But… it wasn’t. After twenty-five years of keeping secrets, he was finally out and it had gone better than he could’ve imagined. He looked back at his brother, “I told her yesterday. Like, about… _me_.”

“Wha—seriously?” Ven sputtered in disbelief, “what happened? Are you okay?”

“It went really well. I’m still kind of in a state of disbelief over all of it.” Roxas ran a hand through his hair and was made very aware of the damp state it was still in. “But uh, let me finish getting ready first. Make yourself at home, or whatever, and then we can grab some lunch and I’ll tell you everything.”

Ven nodded vigorously, “okay, but _hurry!”_

 

 

An hour or so later, the twins found themselves seated comfortably at a burger joint downtown. Roxas, given adequate time to style his hair and change his clothes, was feeling far more refreshed and at ease than he had when Ven had first arrived. It probably had something to do with the coffee that Ventus had made for them at home, too.

Once they had placed their orders with the waiter, Ven leaned in with his elbows on the table. “Alright, spill it.”

“I don’t even know where to start,” Roxas mumbled.

Ventus offered an unhelpful shrug. “The beginning usually works.”

“Shut up,” Roxas rolled his eyes. He settled back in the booth, distancing himself from his twin’s too-eager gaze. “I stayed over at Axel’s the night before—” 

“ _Ooh_.”

“Do you want the story or not?” Roxas snapped, though he felt his cheeks grow warm. “Anyways, I get into work the next morning, yesterday, and everything’s fine. We were just processing new flowers, doing orders and the usual stuff.” Roxas offered a passive ‘ _thank-you’_ to the waiter as their drinks were delivered—another coffee for Roxas and an iced tea for Ven. Alone again, he continued, “so then uh, Axel shows up. He visits me at work sometimes, but usually by the time that mom has left, so it kind of caught me by surprise. She must’ve seen the stupid look on my face, because she just kept _smiling_ at me. Axel was being all polite and social, and you know mom’s all about that and she— _oh_! Oh yeah!”

Ventus jolted in surprise, nearly spilling iced tea down the front of his shirt. “Oh yeah?” The annoyed look on Ven’s face went unacknowledged by Roxas.

“Mom! She’s seeing someone! She’s _dating_ again!”

“Seriously? Who?” This had managed to capture Ven’s attention. He settled his iced tea back on the table, eyebrows raised.

“Yeah! She was telling me about it before Axel showed up. His name is… Leon? Yeah, I guess she met him at one of the weddings we worked, and I dunno, I guess they just clicked, or whatever.”

“Have you met him yet?”

Roxas shook his head, “no, not yet. Yesterday was the first time I’d even heard of him.”

Ventus practically scoffed at him, “and you didn’t notice her y’know, _leaving the house_ for extended periods of time to go on dates?”

“What? Yeah—well, I mean… I guess I’ve been a bit preoccupied with my own stuff lately,” Roxas said, his voice barely more than a mumble.

Ventus grinned, “does this _stuff_ have red hair?”

“Shut up.”

Ventus laughed and then settled back into his seat. “Anyways, you were telling me a story?”

“Yeah. Right.” Roxas sighed. He slid his coffee cup towards him, wrapping his hands around the warm mug. It was still too hot to drink, but he relished in the heat and pleasant smell, if only for a small distraction. “So after Axel leaves, she just… brings it up. Asks me how long I’ve been dating him.”

“Hah! I _knew_ that she knew!” Ventus practically slammed his fist down on the table.

“What the fuck, Ven?” Roxas hissed, earning himself several glares from the neighbouring tables. He lowered his voice and leaned forward, “why didn’t you tell me?”

“I mean, I didn’t _know_ know, you know?” Ven laughed to himself. At least _he_ was able to make light of the situation. “I just had a feeling that she knew. I could tell by the way she talked about you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Like… I don’t know! Just little things. You could tell she was always protective of you, but in a different way from how she was with me or Prompto. It doesn’t matter—what happened after that?”

“I freaked out,” Roxas admitted with a sigh. “I tried to deny it at first, but that was pointless, obviously. I could barely even form a sentence.”

“Are you okay?” Ventus asked, his voice now calm and sincere, “I can’t imagine that’s easy, even at our age, and even with Aerith.”

“It was horrible.” Roxas leaned forward, inhaling the scent of mediocre coffee. His shoulders drooped, “I mean, no. It wasn’t _horrible_. We’re lucky that mom is mom and not like—” he paused, briefly thinking about Hayner’s parents and how different his own coming out story would’ve been, if it had even happened. “Not like other parents.”

Ven glanced at him, his eyes full of worry, and he appeared to understand exactly what Roxas meant by that.

“I just wish I could’ve told her on my own terms, you know?”

“But were you ever going to?” Ventus asked softly.

“ _Yes_ ,” Roxas insisted, though he didn’t sound as sure as he’d hoped. “Well… maybe not. At least, not yet. Or maybe? Fuck, I don’t know. I’m with Axel now, so it might’ve come up, but I hadn’t planned for it to be so soon.”

Ventus smiled fondly, “well, either way, I’m glad that it happened. You’re going to feel better because of it.”

“Yeah, here’s hoping.”

The waiter arrived shortly after with their food, but Roxas felt less hungry now that it was in front of him. Ventus, on the other hand, dug into his fries immediately. Roxas waited, sipping his coffee, as his mind wandered to the slip of crumpled paper in his jacket pocket, and the _other_ thing that he couldn’t stop replaying in his head.

Roxas set down his coffee. “Hayner showed up, too.”

Ventus practically choked on his fries, “you’re joking.”

“I wish I was,” Roxas couldn’t help but smirk, in spite of it all.

There was a moment of silence in which Roxas didn’t continue. Ventus gestured with his hands to continue, “so…?”

“He gave me his number and a bullshit apology.” Roxas briefly wondered how odd it would be to ask to have his entire meal to-go. “He said he wants to hang out while he’s here and catch up, but I don’t think I owe him that. Not after what happened. I don’t care what kind of excuse he has. It’s just not—why don’t I get a say in this? It was _his_ choice to leave, so he should have to live with that.” His voice grew louder as he spoke, drawing attention yet again from the tables nearby. A couple next to them kept stealing glances and whispering to one another, but Roxas couldn’t be bothered.

Ventus was quiet. He sent an apologetic smile to the neighbouring table before speaking. “I think you should hear him out, Roxas.”

“ _Why?_ ”

Ventus simply shrugged, as if the answer was truly that obvious. “Well, because you guys were young and sexuality is complicated. You of all people should know that.”

Roxas looked down at his untouched plate of food. “Yeah, but—”

“Look,” Ventus interrupted, “I’m going to be brutally honest here. I haven’t told this to anyone, not even Aqua or Terra. In first year, I had a _huge_ crush on this guy that I met—”

“ _You?_ ”

Ventus held up his hand, “Let me finish, Rox. We were paired together for a group project in one of my first year psychology courses. It was a research paper that we had the whole term to work on—one of those semester long things, rather than a bunch of smaller assignments. Tons of work. Anyways, we had to get together pretty much on a weekly basis to work on it. I was lucky that he was a bit of an overachiever, like me, so meeting up wasn’t a problem. Eventually I just found myself getting really awkward and flustered around him for no particular reason. At first, I thought I was just intimidated—he always wore black and had this whole… I dunno, goth aesthetic, I guess. Not the usual type I go for, as you probably already know.”

Roxas snickered, recalling Ventus’s past girlfriends. They were typically petite, intelligent, quiet, with bright eyes and wild imaginations. He’d never disliked any of them, but he was never _crazy_ about them, either. In Roxas’s opinion, they all had one major thing in common… they were always boring.

“Did you guys… do anything?” Roxas asked.

“No, never. I managed to keep it to myself until the end of term. We presented our final project, and… that was it, I guess. I’d see him around campus, but after that we kind of parted ways. It was just a project, after all.” Ventus’s tone suggested that he was over it, that it was in the past, but his lingering gaze had Roxas thinking that maybe it wasn’t entirely true.

Roxas raised an eyebrow at his brother, who flushed a little. It was clear he wasn’t used to being on _this_ side of the conversation. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I was _terrified,_ Rox. You know I’ll support you to the bitter end, and I always try to be the best ally that I can be, but I just… I just felt like I didn’t know myself anymore, you know? This guy comes into my life for a single semester and turns my whole understanding of sexuality and attraction around, and we never even _did_ anything. We were barely even friends!” Ventus paused, gathering his thoughts. “I—I became kind of obsessed with the whole thing after that, my sexuality and what it all meant. I looked for answers in my Psychology and Philosophy courses. Hell, I even took some Gender Studies electives for this reason alone, and you know what conclusion I came to?”

“Uh…” Roxas was, admittedly, taken aback by his brother’s outburst. If he’d known the conversation would take this kind of turn, he wouldn’t have suggested a busy family restaurant. Next time, he’ll just prepare something at home. Roxas shook his head slowly.

“That I’m still just _me_. Gender, sexuality, they’re all social constructs. We shouldn’t have to fear our orientations or be confused when it fluctuates, but unfortunately it’s not that easy. Society tells us that we need labels, and that we should abide by them or fear the alternative.”

Sure, maybe his brother was onto something, but it all seemed so arbitrary right now. Roxas smirked, “so… what does this epiphany have to do with Hayner?”

“I guess I’m just sympathizing with him here. I know he hurt you, and I know that you really did love him, but I also know how confusing it must have been for him at the time. I think, if I could go back and redo that whole semester—knowing what I know know about sexuality—and maybe _talk_ to the guy properly, then something would’ve come of it. Or not. Who knows. I’m not saying to date Hayner, because I know you’ve moved on and I respect that. I just think that maybe he’s learned some things about himself and has come to terms with his sexuality. Like I said before, maybe this is the closure he needs to move forward. And you could probably use it, too, especially after yesterday,” Ventus offered, his voice calmer than before.

The waiter came by, and Roxas suspected it had something to do with their disrupting the other tables. Ven had insisted on their behalf that everything was great, especially the food (though Roxas still hadn’t touched his). The twins sat in silence; Ventus resumed eating while Roxas finished his cup of coffee.

After a moment, Roxas sighed. “Man, sometimes I wish you were stupid.”

Ventus laughed, pointing a fry at his brother. “I can’t be, because I have to look out for your sorry ass.”

“You’re practically a martyr,” Roxas mocked. He began to pick at his own food, if only so they could leave sooner.

“A saint, even.”

Roxas chewed on a fry and glared down at his brother. “Fine, I get it. I’ll send him a text.”

 

 

Roxas kept his word.

He did send the text, though it took several rewrites and a _lot_ of encouraging from Ventus on their drive to the airport. By the time he was ready to hit send, Roxas had seriously considered tossing his phone out the car window and just abandoning any and all responsibility on the matter. In the end, he’d agreed to meet with Hayner the following afternoon for a drink. That way, he could easily escape after one beer if things went awry. If it weren’t for Ven’s insistence, he probably would’ve avoided the whole meeting entirely.

Probably.

Maybe.

They waited together, side by side, outside of the baggage claim and arrivals area. Ventus wore a smug look on his face, like he was holding back a grin. Roxas glanced at his brother and frowned.

“What’s that look for?”

“My baby brother’s growing up,” Ven teased, no longer able to hold back the grin.

Roxas rolled his eyes, “fuck off.”

“But I’m serious, Rox.” Ventus slung his arm around his brother’s shoulders and pulled him in for a half-hug. “I’m proud of you. I know it was hard.”

Roxas made a noise of indifference. “Just know that’s the only favour I’m doing for you all week.”

“ _Yikes_ ,” Ven gasped. “Is Axel aware of your grouchy side yet, or have you kept that in check?”

“Like you’re one to talk,” Roxas shrugged the arm off his shoulder. “If I hadn’t’ve texted Hayner, you would’ve been guilt tripping me all day.”

“Only for your best interest, baby brother.”

“Call me that again and I’ll break your jaw.”

“ _Baby. Brother.”_ Ventus sneered, drawing out the words as he spoke.

Roxas lunged at him, wrapping his arm around his brother’s neck and pulling him into a harmless chokehold (they were in public, after all). The two of them were laughing now, and Ventus could hardly compose himself enough to attempt an escape. Roxas was in the middle of giving Ventus a hairstyle-destroying noogie when a familiar voice spoke up.

“Glad to see you two are still getting along.”

Roxas released Ventus, who was fighting off a fit of giggles. “Prompto!”

Prompto was all smiles. He wrapped his arms around both Roxas and Ventus and pulled them into a crushing hug. “I missed you losers.”

“Thanks for saving me from the wrath of Roxas,” Ventus returned the embrace with enthusiasm.

“He was asking for it,” Roxas insisted, earning himself a wink from Prompto. He’d always gotten along well with his older brother, even though he hadn’t seen much of him in the past decade. While Roxas had prided himself on his delinquency as a teenager, he knew that he had _nothing_ on Prompto. He’d heard many stories of his brother’s ( _mostly_ legal) adventures as a teen, though typically in the form of hyperbolic reminiscing. As a kid, Prompto was troubled; he was nervous, self-conscious and constantly made fun of for being overweight. The summer before high-school, he’d made a massive effort to work on his confidence and body image, and it paid off.

Roxas remembered Prompto more as a teenager, as he’d been too young at the time to fully remember their childhood together. As a teenager, he’d gained enough confidence to compensate the lack of in his youth. He was adventurous and always causing mayhem, most of which was fuelled by activism in one way or another. Roxas remembered one night in particular where a 16-year-old Prompto was escorted home by police after he’d been caught attempting to spray paint profanities on the windows of a butcher shop. It was one of the only times that Roxas had ever heard Aerith yelling at one of her sons, and it has put the fear of god in him.

Roxas had always admired Prompto; he’d always been a free spirit, passionate, and completely in charge of his own life. When he’d made the decision to move away at eighteen with little more than a change of clothes and his DSLR, Roxas had been so inspired to follow in his footsteps the first chance he got. But now, over a decade later, that goal seemed more distant than ever.

Prompto released his brothers after one last tight squeeze. From behind him, Noctis stepped forward with a soft smile and gave Roxas and Ventus each a hug. Roxas hadn’t spent much time around Noctis, but he knew that he liked him. He couldn’t help but think their friendship in high school was one of the factors in Prompto finally gaining his sense of confidence and self-love.

“It’s great to see you guys again,” Noctis smiled.

Sora was due to arrive an hour later, so the four of them settled down at a coffeeshop within the airport to wait. Prompto entertained the group with the newest series of photos on his camera, quickly scanning through each of them and offering bits of context when needed. The photos were beautiful, as usual, and ranged from landscapes to architecture to wildlife. Their most recent trip was to Agrabah where Prompto, ever the animal lover, was determined to photograph tigers at a sanctuary. Prompto kept scanning, lingering on some of his best shots, until they landed on a photo of Noctis. The photo was dimly lit and Noctis was smiling directly at the camera, almost intimately…

Prompto cleared his throat and quickly turned off his camera, declaring that that was all there was to see (though the numbers at the bottom of the display screen told otherwise). Roxas quickly glanced at Ventus, who clearly had similar thoughts, judging by the look on his face. Prompto made a very obvious point of trying to distract them after that.

 

 

They heard Sora before they saw him.

“VEN! ROX! PROMPTOOOO!”

The group turned in the direction of the voice to see Sora flailing his arms in the air before dashing towards them. Ventus barely had a moment to prepare himself before Sora leapt into his arms, nearly toppling them both over. Prompto howled with laughter at the two of them.

“How are you guys? It’s so good to see all of you again! How long has it even been, two years or something? Prompto, you got so tall! Wait, have you always been that tall? Oh, and you must be Noctis! It’s so nice to finally meet you—I love seeing all of the photos you guys take!” Sora was a bundle of energy, still clinging tightly to Ventus. Sora would never admit it to them, but Roxas knew that Ven was his favourite. It never bothered him though—he didn’t have the energy to be Sora’s favourite, and he suspected very few did.

“Good to see you, kiddo.” Prompto laughed and ruffled Sora’s mess of brown hair. “How’s the island life treating you?”

“It’s the _best_!” Sora declared. He moved on from Ventus to give Roxas a hug, which was thankfully shorter and less enthusiastic than the one Ven had been given. “You guys should come take photos sometime! I can take you out on my boat!”

“You have a boat?” Noctis asked.

Prompto laughed, “don’t get too excited, it’s just a rowboat. But we’d love to visit sometime, Sora!”

“Ven and Roxas, you guys should come too!” Sora beamed. Behind him, the baggage carousel made a loud noise of protest as it began to move. “Riku and Kairi want to see you again!”

Roxas couldn’t help but roll his eyes, “yeah, I _bet_ they do.”

When the twins had last visited their extended family on Destiny Islands, they’d been in their mid-teens. Ventus, agreeable as always, had gotten along fine with Sora and his two best friends. Roxas, on the other hand, found himself disliking Riku almost immediately. Kairi was fine, though he couldn’t remember much about her because he was so _consumed_ by his disliking for Riku that it was all he thought about from that trip. He knew Riku felt the same, too. Riku was pretentious, dominating and had no sense of humour—at least, when he was face to face with Roxas, that happened to be the case. He couldn’t even remember how they’d gotten off on the wrong foot, only that he felt nothing but contempt for the silver haired kid.

“Aw, come on Roxas! You guys were teenagers then, and Riku is such a nice guy now! He even said that he’d like to see you both again,” Sora whined. He was practically giving Roxas puppy-dog eyes.

“Fine, we’ll plan for it.” Roxas huffed. The group wandered to the carousel to collect Sora’s bag. “But if he’s a dick to me again then I’m swimming home.”

“Deal!” Sora punched the air in triumph.

 

 

By the time they arrived back home, Aerith had returned from work and gotten a head-start on dinner. The dining table had an arrangement of tropical flowers (made by Xion, said Aerith) set in the middle of it and an assortment of chairs from around the house to accommodate the extra bodies. Dinner preparations were a scramble in the kitchen as everybody tried their best to help. They crowded the small area, probably slowing down the dinner making process than actually helping, but Roxas could tell that Aerith was thriving in that environment. It had been a while since she’d had a full house, and Roxas knew how badly Aerith missed having her sons all together.

Roxas uncorked a couple wine bottles and brought them to the table once everyone had settled in.

“So how’s life going outside of the shop, mom?” Prompto asked, pouring himself and Noctis a glass of red wine before passing the bottle to Sora, who made a look of disgust and instead reached for the bottle of white.

Before she could respond, Ventus spoke up, “Roxas told me some interesting news, Mom.” He winked at her, the gesture exaggerated enough for the rest of the table to catch onto.

Aerith brought a hand to her chest and gasped, “Roxas!”

Prompto looked between the three of them, very confused. “Mom?”

She sighed, the smile returning to her face. “Well, if you must know… I’ve been seeing someone.”

“ _Someone_ someone?” Prompto asked.

Her cheeks turned the slightest shade of red and she picked up her glass of wine, “something like that.”

“Don’t hold out on us, Auntie Aerith!” Sora begged, already halfway done his glass of white wine.

“His name is Leon and we met at a wedding.”

Prompto gasped enthusiastically. “What does he do? Is he handsome? Roxas, have you met this guy yet?”

Roxas shook his head in response. He felt his phone vibrate in his pocket and he let the conversation carry on as he discreetly checked it under the table. Aerith typically hated phones at the table, but she was fortunately very preoccupied at that moment.

The text was from Axel (flame emoji), and Roxas exhaled in relief that it hadn’t been from Hayner.

_Hey. How’s the family?_

Roxas smiled to himself and replied:

_Chaotic. Can I escape to your place sometime this week?_

Axel (flame emoji) was quick to respond:

_Please do. I’ve been thinking about you._

Roxas bit his lip. He wasn’t even paying attention to the conversation at the table anymore. Axel sent another message before he could respond, and Roxas was in the middle of reading it—something about how Axel missed the way he tasted—when he was interrupted.

“Roxas?”

“H-Huh?” He looked up, red faced.

All eyes were on him, and Ventus was hiding a laugh behind his hands.

“While we’re on the topic of love interests…” Prompto teased, “who’s got you so preoccupied over there?”

“What? No, I just—” he lifted his hands, letting his phone fall to his lap.

“It’s his boyfriend,” Aerith said.

“ _MOM!”_ Roxas gasped.

“Wait, what?” Prompto practically choked on his wine. From beside him, Noctis smiled knowingly at Roxas. Did he…?

“Come on, Rox. Don’t be shy!” Ventus was having _way_ too much fun at his expense.

“I, uh…”Roxas swallowed the lump in his throat. Why did he think this would be so hard? Forming a proper sentence proved to be difficult, so instead he simply nodded and said, “yeah.”

“Yeah?” Noctis asked on behalf of Prompto, who was currently stuck with his mouth hanging wide open.

“His name’s Axel and he has red hair. He works with computers, or something.” Ventus shrugged, then popped a piece of steamed broccoli into his mouth. He winked at Roxas.

“Yeah…” Roxas repeated, unsure of what else to say.

“Well, I hope he’s nicer than your last boyfriend,” Sora said, finishing off his glass of wine. He reached for the bottle again. “This wine is great, Auntie Aerith—I had no idea wine could be sweet!” 

Roxas glared at Ventus accusingly, who looked just as surprised about Sora’s comment and shrugged.

“My… last boyfriend?” Roxas had no idea what Sora was talking about. Unless…

“Yeah, whatshisname, uh… Hayden?”

Roxas’s heart thumped in his chest and his blush deepened, “Hayner. Sora, how… did you know about that?”

“What d’ya mean?” Sora spoke through a mouthful of food. “It’s not like it was a secret. You guys were inseparable.”

“Wait, you were _dating_ Hayner?” Prompto looked like he was only the verge of imploding from all this information. “Like, he was your _boyfriend?”_

Beside him, Noctis chuckled. “How did you not pick up on that?”

Roxas ignored them and looked to Ventus, searching his expression. “You seriously didn’t tell anyone?”

Ventus put his hands up defensively. “I swear, Rox.”

“Wait, am I the only one who didn’t know about this?” Prompto made eye contact with Aerith, who only smiled back at him.

“We’ve talked about it before, Prompto.” Now Noctis was laughing, “I’ve literally called him ‘ _Roxas’s boyfriend’_ in conversation.”

“Yeah, but I thought you were just… y’know, teasing?” Prompto leaned back in his chair, defeated. “Mom, you knew about this too?”

Aerith nodded. “Well, Roxas only officially came out to me yesterday… but I’ve had my suspicions for a while.”

“Huh… no way,” Prompto sighed.

Noctis offered his companion a friendly pat on the shoulder, “for a shutterbug, you’re awfully unobservant.”

“Hey, that’s not true!”

Roxas smiled shakily, still thrown off by the series of events. He watched his brother and Noctis bicker lightheartedly. Noctis rested a hand on Prompto’s shoulder reassuringly, then let it trail down to his bicep before pulling away abruptly.

“So when can we meet the guy? You too, mom. Don’t think you’re off the hook.” Prompto raised his wine glass in Aerith’s direction.

“We should invite them both for dinner this week!” Ventus offered.

Sora nodded vigorously, his mouth full of bread.

Ventus continued, “and Namine! I haven’t seen her in ages.”

“I’m not sure our dinner table is big enough for that many people, but I’m sure we could make it work.” Aerith laughed. Roxas knew that was as good as a “yes”.

“Let’s have a barbecue!”

Dinner quickly evolved into a party-planning session as everyone spoke plans over each other. Fortunately, that meant the attention had been taken off of Roxas and he was _beyond_ thankful for that.

By the time they’d finished their meals, the group was sufficiently tipsy (Roxas opened a few more bottles mid-way through dinner). Sora and Ventus had easily had the most to drink and the two had fallen into a fit of laughter by the end of the meal.

After dinner, the family gathered in the kitchen to help cleanup. Noctis and Prompto were washing dishes as Sora and Ventus packed away the leftover food. Aerith had been shooed out of the kitchen, so she remained seated at the dinner table, wine glass in hand and cheeks rosy as she watched the others clean up. Things were more or less under control, so Roxas took the opportunity to slip out of the kitchen and quietly exit the house through the front door.

He only needed some air, and a moment of quiet. He pulled his phone from his pocket, remembering then that he’d forgotten to respond to Axel’s last text. But rather than type out a response, he let the wine-induced confidence guide him to press the “call” button instead. It rang once, then twice—

“ _Hey, you,_ ” Axel’s voice came through on the other end.

“Hi.”

He could hear the strumming of a guitar in the background, but it quickly came to a stop. In the background, he could hear Demyx say, “ _is that Roxas? Tell him I say hi!”_

Roxas laughed. He heard the distinct sound of a door closing, which presumably meant that Axel had gone into his bedroom to speak in private.

“ _How’s the family?_ ”

“Overwhelming.”

Axel chuckled breathily and Roxas felt a shiver run through his body. “ _I’m sure it’ll die down._ ”

“I think you underestimate my family.”

Axel laughed again, and Roxas bit his lip. “ _Well, you are the expert on the matter._ ”

Roxas made a noise of agreement. There was the sound of shuffling and the creak of a mattress.

“ _Everything okay?_ ”

“I think so?” Roxas sighed, “I uh, came out to my mom yesterday.”

“ _Are you okay?_ ” Axel’s voice sounded panicked, “ _do you need me to come pick you up?_ ”

“No, no. It was great, really. She… I guess she already knew.” Roxas laughed, rubbing at the back of his neck. “And as of tonight, my whole family knows.”

“ _And… you promise everything is okay?_ ”

“I promise. It’s just… new to me.”

Axel hummed in acknowledgement. Roxas sighed, wishing very much that he was in Axel’s presence right now. It would be the perfect way to wind down after such a hectic day with his family. He closed his eyes, thinking about the way Axel would run his fingers down his spine.

“They want me to invite you to dinner this week,” Roxas chuckled breathily.

“ _Do you want me to come over?”_

“Well, yeah. Of course,” Roxas said, almost defensively. Why wouldn’t he?

“ _Hey, I just want you to be comfortable. But if you want me there, then I’ll be there._ ”

“You sure you can handle my family?”

_“You do know who I live with, right? I can handle anything.”_

Roxas laughed. It hadn’t been long, but he missed seeing Axel and Demyx. His family had only just arrived, but he was looking forward to getting back into his new routine. “Fine, but you can’t back out now.”

_“I wouldn’t dream of it.”_

“Thanks, Axel.”

_“Anytime, Roxas.”_ Axel’s voice was like honey saying Roxas’s name. _“Hey, what are you doing tomorrow night?”_

Roxas let a groan escape him, “I’m… hanging out with an old friend.” He considered cancelling on Hayner in that moment, but knew that Ven wouldn’t let him live it down.

_“Hm? You don’t sound too happy about that.”_

“It’s complicated,” Roxas dismissed.

_“Hmm…”_

“It’s nothing, honestly. We just parted ways on bad terms a long time ago.” He’d tell Axel the whole story eventually. Just… not now, and not on the phone. Besides, he wouldn’t want Axel to worry about him going out with an ex, even though Roxas knew nothing would ever happen again between the two of them. He wouldn’t let it happen.

_“I know how that is.”_   
“Yeah… Well, I should get back inside. They’ll get suspicious if I’m gone for too long.”

_“Sounds good. I’ll just be sitting here thinking about what I want to do to you next.”_

Roxas took in a sharp breath and felt his cheeks go red. “What—you can’t say that when I’m about to go rejoin my family!”

_“Yeah? You want to come over here and stop me? I can’t stop thinking about those little noises you made, and the way you kept pulling on my hair—”_

Roxas sputtered with laughter, “Axel!”

Axel chuckled to himself on the other end, clearly satisfied with the reaction. _“Fine, fine. I’ll see you soon.”_

“Have a good night, Axel.”

Roxas hung up and pocketed his phone. He didn’t want to go back inside, not quite yet, but he could hear the muffled sounds of music and familiar voices from within the house and his absence was bound to be noticed soon. He was about to stand when he heard the front door open from behind him. He spun around to see Prompto holding a glass of wine in one hand and a camera in the other.

“Oh, hey!” Roxas greeted him, “I was about to go back inside. I just needed some air.” Roxas made an attempt to stand up from the step.

Prompto placed a hand on his shoulder to keep him from standing and Roxas sat back down. He relaxed and shuffled over to allow some space for Prompto to sit next to him.

“No worries,” Prompto sat and stared out at the small front yard. “I just wanted to check on you after… that.”

Roxas nodded slowly. Prompto offered him the glass of wine and he gratefully took a sip.

“I really had no idea, Rox,” Prompto continued. “I don’t know if that makes me a bad brother, or just clueless. But I just… I wanted to tell you that I don’t think any differently of you now, so you don’t have to worry about that, or whatever. I know I seemed a bit shocked at dinner, but that’s only because I was surprised. You’re my little brother and I love you, no matter what.”

Roxas smiled and nodded, “I know. There’s just been a lot going on lately, and… I dunno. It all piles up and I didn’t think coming out would happen like _this._ ”

“Trust me, I get it.” Prompto sighed and took the glass of wine back from Roxas, swapping it for the camera. It wasn’t the one that Prompto had been showing them photos on at the airport, it was his older camera, equipped with a compact portrait lens.

Roxas looked down at the camera in his hands, then to his brother for an explanation.

“I recently upgraded, so here’s another hand-me-down to add to your collection. Take good care of her for me, okay? She was pricey.”

“Really?” Roxas switched the camera on and looked through the viewfinder at the surrounding area before settling on Prompto and snapping a photo. “Thank you, Prompto! This is… really nice.”

“Are you still taking photos?” Prompto asked, smiling for the camera.

Roxas took another shot. _No_. “I… try to, when I can find the time.”

“Well, make a habit of it, okay? Let’s start by taking a picture together!”

Roxas laughed and obliged him. He extended his arm and aimed the lens at them as Prompto wrapped an arm around his shoulder. They smiled and Roxas pressed the trigger, waiting for the distinct shutter noise before pulling the camera back towards him. Somehow, he’d managed to frame the photo well enough and their smiling faces were perfectly centred in the photo.

Prompto looked down at the small display screen and clapped Roxas on the back, “nice! You’re a natural!”

Roxas stared down at the camera, “hey Prompto, can I ask you something?”

“Shoot—uh, no camera pun intended.”

He briefly considered dismissing it, but that thought didn’t last. He felt like Prompto had come out here with the intention of acknowledging it, knowing now what he does about Roxas and his sexuality. “Are you and Noctis together?” He said it so quickly that the words almost blended together, but he knew Prompto had heard him and understood. Roxas stared at his brother, whose pale eyes looked everywhere but at Roxas.

There was a long moment of silence before Prompto downed the glass of wine and stood up. He ruffled Roxas’s hair affectionately, “send me that picture, okay? It’s a good one.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise, I will do whatever it takes to not make a hiatus last that long ever again. I'm sorry guys, and I hope you're all still with me. My semester is over and I now have WAY more time to dedicate to writing and other personal projects, which I'm very excited about. I also recently got a job at a new flower shop for the summer so... living that life too, I guess. It's nice to get back into a routine. ONLY FIVE MORE CHAPTERS TO GO, GUYS. WE'RE ON THE HOME STRETCH. Things are going to get fun after this one, and I can't wait to write the next chapter. Hehehe <3 
> 
> Thanks so much, and endless apologies for this chapter taking so long. You guys mean the world to me.
> 
> Chapter title comes from the song "Happy House" by Siouxsie and the Banshees.
> 
> My sister joked about me using "The Boys are Back in Town" but I just couldn't bring myself to do it. I'm so lame, I'm sorry.


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